


Gleipnir

by Chalatan



Category: American Gods (TV), American Gods - Neil Gaiman
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Banter, Canon-Typical Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Gen, Post Season 2
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28020579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chalatan/pseuds/Chalatan
Summary: After the revelations of the Cairo raid, all Shadow wanted was to give Wednesday a piece of his mind, but somehow he ends up drawn back into the old god's mysterious plans. What is Wednesday searching for, who or what is tracking them in the night and most importantly why does Shadow continue to stick with Wednesday after everything that has happened? It's complicated.Set post season 2 exploring Shadow's relationship with Wednesday and Laura whilst more strangeness is thrown at him.Some book elements thrown in but no major spoilers that aren't in the show.
Relationships: Shadow Moon & Mr. Wednesday (American Gods)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

Shadow awoke in the darkness with his arms aching and his mind fuzzy. His hands were cuffed behind his back. He shuffled around trying to get his bearings. He was in a cell. He’d been in enough cells to recognize them by feel. But whether he’d been caught by the police or counter terrorism or the new gods he had no idea. Was there even a difference anymore? 

His thoughts came sluggishly, he wondered if he had a concussion but couldn’t feel any pain beyond the discomfort in his arms. He found the door by the light filtering in under it. Locked of course, with no handle on the inside. He slumped against the wall and tried to remember. 

He remembered the raid on the funeral parlor. Chopping his way out of the clutches of the tree, for the first time in a long time he’d been filled with purpose. He’d felt angry and alive.

Shadow had intended to track Wednesday down and shake some answers out of him for once. He wasn't sure he wanted to kill him like Laura did. And Sweeney - had. He swallowed a lump in his throat. But he had been going to make him answer for himself and if Shadow didn't like the answers then… well he'd figure that out later. 

Unfortunately those plans had been interrupted by finding himself once again in a darkened room with a headache and no memory of how he'd got here. He was distantly disturbed by how quickly this was becoming routine. He raged against the timing of it. Finally He’d been getting some answers and now he was here, and here could be anywhere. The revelations of the past few days bobbed to the surface of his mind like corpses in a river. 

Wednesday was his father.

Wednesday had got him thrown in prison. 

Wednesday had killed Laura.

It was too much.

His stomach twisted with the betrayal. He was reminded of Laura’s funeral. Audrey turning to him with wide eyes ‘Did nobody tell you? Your wife died with my husband’s cock in her mouth, Shadow.’

Perhaps he should feel hatred but he just felt empty. With Wednesday it was like it was with Laura, something in him refused to process the new information. Clung to a notion of loyalty, of- 

He couldn't focus. It made no sense, none of it made any sense. With nothing else to do he faded once more into the blackness. 

A bright light jerked him awake. The bare fluorescents on the ceiling illuminated the drab concrete box he was trapped in. There was a cot along one wall and a toilet in the corner. Time had passed, but he had no way of knowing how much. He was hungry. As he got up from the floor he was surprised to find that the handcuffs were gone. Someone had been in here whilst he slept. The idea made him uneasy. 

He explored the cell for weaknesses; tried the door again, examined the small drain in the floor. Everything was well built and inscrutable. There was a hatch in the door but it was bolted. The cell was cold, not too bad but below comfortable temperature. He grabbed the thin blanket from the cot and wrapped it around his shoulders. It made him feel weak but warm. He paced to get the blood flowing through his limbs again. 

After a long period of pacing the hatch popped open and a tray slid through. Shadow lunged to try and hold the hatch open, to see what was on the other side but it slammed shut before he had a chance. The tray contained rather standard prison food. The familiarity made him feel safe and he hated himself for it. He remembered his conversation with Low Key about fear and hope. Once they’d caught you, you didn’t have to fear anymore. The worst had already happened. Except this time he suspected that was not the case. Last time he’d been captured he’d been tortured. It seemed likely to happen again. 

He ate the prison food leisurely. Making it last. Every activity in prison becomes stretched out to fill the time. He decided to start his work out routine but 5 minutes in he felt dizzy and lay down on the cot. His eyes grew heavy and they closed against his protests. 

He dreamed. 

He dreamed of his mother, dancing with Wednesday in a 70’s disco, his hands gripping her possessively as she laughed. She looked so young and vulnerable and he looked exactly the same. Despite the age difference they made a handsome couple as they span slowly together. Wednesday whispered something in her ear and she blushed.

Then he was dancing with Laura at a party. It was New Years Eve. Audrey and Robbie were there gyrating besides them and drinking from tall fluted glasses of cheap sparkling wine. Laura spoke to him but he couldn’t hear over the music. He leaned in and smelt the stench of death rising off her like a heady perfume. 

“Are you ready?” She whispered in his ear. 

“Ready for what?” He asked but then she was gripping his hand and turning to face the open glass doors. A countdown began. 

“10, 9, 8-” Everyone was smiling and chanting along, staring out at the empty sky. Shadow felt lost. 

“7, 6-” Laura’s hand slipped from his grip. He looked around for her desperately but she had disappeared into the crowd. He pushed through them deeper into the room hoping to find her. 

“5, 4, 3-” He broke through the crowd and saw Laura illuminated by the light of an incongruous disco ball. She was dancing with Robbie. As they spun Robbie became Wednesday. He held Laura close and grinned over her shoulder at Shadow. 

“2, 1!” The sound of explosions filled the air. Fireworks and giddy cheers. 

Then the room was filled with thick smoke. He stumbled towards where he’d last seen Laura and Wednesday as the explosions became louder. The screams of joy became screams of terror and anger. The din of metal ringing on metal took over as the explosions and the smoke receded slightly, morphing into a clinging fog. He was on a battlefield. The ground underfoot was boggy and reeded. Bodies littered the landscape. Some of them were still moving, many were not. As he stumbled, he couldn’t tell what was solid ground and what was water so his shoes soon filled with a mix of mud and blood. He could hear the battle raging around him but couldn’t see any men still standing. Their cries and screams echoed in his ears. 

The buffalo with flaming eyes appeared out of the fog. It charged at him as though in slow motion. Shadow couldn’t move, only wait. One horn pierced his side and Shadow screamed. He stared down at the blood as it poured out of his body with a sound like a waterfall, a constant gushing stream into the bog below. 

When he woke next it was with an urgent need to piss. He staggered over to the toilet in the corner and relieved himself with a groan. He rested his head against the wall. Sweat soaked his face and body. He tried to clean himself up in the small basin but there was no soap. Shadow noticed that the food tray had gone. 

He thought about Robbie. They’d been friends for a long time but they’d never really been close. They’d bonded over sports and work outs and Shadow had drifted along with it because it was easy and it was nice to have friends. Robbie was an uncomplicated guy. He liked typical guy things and wasn’t prone to introspection. He wasn’t someone you could really talk to about serious topics but that suited Shadow fine because he wasn’t a big talker either. Robbie was like a cheesy sitcom. Friendly, predictable, somewhat shallow but fun, easy to be with. There for you when you’re feeling down. 

He’d been there for Laura too. Shadow doubted Robbie had ever felt bad about it. Not really. There hadn’t been room in his head for too many feelings at once. 

People thought Shadow was the same. A big, strong, simple guy. He didn’t correct them. It was better than being the scrawny, weird bookworm he was when he was a kid. Now when he was silent people assumed it was because there was nothing going on in his head, not that he thought he was too good to talk to them. That got you beat up. Being big and dumb was a lot safer than being small and smart. 

When the hatch in the door opened again he was too distracted to lunge for it. He ate each type of food one by one, starting with the peas. Halfway through his meal the lights turned off and he made a mental note to not stretch his second meal so long in future. He finished in the darkness and then lay down to sleep, exhaustion filling his mind. 

He dreamed a memory. He was driving down a tree lined country road. Bright sunlight filtered through the branches and threw dappled shadows on the car interior. A song came on the radio. A feminine hand reached out and turned the volume up. He turned and looked at Laura in the passenger seat, happy and vibrant and alive. 

“What? It’s a good one!” She laughed, blushing.

“If you like trashy,” He teased. 

“Of course I like trashy, why do you think I’m marrying you?” Laura shot back playfully. 

“Oh! Right in the gut,” Shadow moaned clutching his side as he grinned. She gazed out at the passing trees.

“It’s so beautiful,” She said. “You know most people are stuck at work right now? In the store or the office or wherever.”

“Yeah, I feel for them,” said Shadow. 

“Eh fuck em,” Laura joked. Shadow laughed in surprise. 

“Bit cold don’t you think?” he teased, watching as a glittering stream was revealed around a bend before slipping out of view again. 

“Today isn’t about them,” She explained. “It’s about-”

“-you and me.” A deep voice spoke, finishing Laura’s sentence. Shadow turned with a start. Sitting in the passenger seat looking relaxed and calm was Wednesday. 

“You! Why is it always you?” Shadow shouted in irritation. He wasn’t driving anymore but the car kept going anyway, smoothly following the road he and Laura had once traveled. Wednesday shrugged and looked unconcerned. 

“There’s a lovely picnic spot not far from here,” He said pointing up ahead. 

“I know, I was taking Laura there. Why must you take everything good in my life away from me? Laura, my freedom, everything!”

“They would have gone anyway, it wasn’t going to last.” 

“How do you know?” Shadow asked bitterly. Wednesday turned to him with a very un-Wednesday-like expression. 

“Because I’m you,” Wednesday spoke in Shadow's voice. 

Suddenly there was a huge crack and something brushed past the windshield. 

Shadow whipped his head back to the road and was momentarily blinded by white light. Where there had once been a summer forest there was now a white openness. He slammed on the brakes and the car skidded in a wide arc before slowly sliding to a stop. Wednesday was gone. 

Shadow got out of the car on shaky legs. He was in the middle of a frozen lake, tire tracks showed where he’d burst through the snow covered tree line and skidded across the ice. He heard worrying echoing grinding sounds as the ice shifted beneath him. A crack stabbed like lightning past his foot and he quickly stumbled away from the car. Behind him the entire sheet of ice tipped up and the car slid backwards into the dark water beneath. 

Shadow stood there with his heavy breaths frosting in the air. The lake water calmed until there wasn’t even a ripple, the water was a perfectly black mirror. Some impulse pulled Shadow towards the edge. As he approached a sharp spike rose out of the water. Shadow stopped in his tracks. The spike was followed by a shaft of wood and he recognised it as Wednesday’s spear. It was gripped in a ghostly white hand which was followed by a body until Laura stood on the water’s surface holding the spear. Her eyes were dark and empty. Her clothes and hair lay plastered to her body. As she stepped barefoot onto the ice they started to freeze. 

“Why are you here?” Asked Shadow. She didn’t answer so he edged closer, cautious of slipping on the ice, until he stood next to her on the edge of the hole. She turned to stare at him blankly. 

“Laura what’s going on?” 

She struck like a cobra, plunging the spear into his side. He staggered and bent over instinctively gripping the wound. Beneath him the black lake showed not his reflection but Wednesday’s clutching the spear and looking stricken. Shadow’s strength gave out and he tumbled forward into the reflective blackness. 

Shadow woke with a start, face wet with sweat. It was still dark. He sat up and rubbed his hands over his face. “Talk about the fear of turning into your father,” Shadow muttered bitterly. 

He’d realised that he was being drugged. Not that his dreams were anything to go by, they’d been this weird for a while after all. He saw no reason to fight it, he’d just end up going hungry. Sure the drugs kept him knocked out most of the time, but trapped alone in a small space that was actually a blessing. He didn’t want time on his hands to think and to stress. Besides it’s not like he’d be able to break out of here if he was more lucid. He was stuck here. He wondered what they wanted from him, why no one had spoken to him yet. 

As though answering his thoughts, later that day, roughly when he was expecting dinner, they came for him. They were dressed like guards in neat blue and navy uniforms. They had no obvious badges or marks to show who they worked for or what facility this was. Not even some sign of rank. They put him in cuffs and lead him unresisting down a corridor and into another room with two chairs and a table. One chair was bolted to the floor. This was the one they sat him in, chaining his hands to the chair arms with enough slack for him to touch his face and then leaving silently. 

A man walked in dressed smartly in an old fashioned brown suit. He had a briefcase with him. 

“Hello Mr..?” Shadow greeted glibly. “Mr Village? Mr Cul De Sac? Mr Ghetto?” The other man set his briefcase on the metal table and took the seat opposite. He smiled thinly and without humor. 

“Mr Steel,” He said in a dry accentless voice. Shadow snapped his fingers together. 

“Dammit, should have guessed.” Mr Steel started spreading his documents across the table, just out of shadow’s reach and examining them. “If you’re going to ask me what Wednesday’s planning, I still don’t know,” Shadow added. Mr Steel tilted his head and looked at him. 

“That seems increasingly likely.” The thin man said. Shadow was surprised to be agreed with. 

“So… you’re going to let me go or?” Just then the door opened and a man entered carrying a tray of food and a glass of water. Mr Steel waited until he’d gone before he spoke. 

“We are rather interested in what you’re planning, Mr Moon,” He said smoothly. 

“What _I’m_ planning?” Shadow parroted dumbly. “I’m not planning anything.” Mr steel looked at him skeptically. 

“Eat up,” He gestured to the food. 

“Is this drugged?” Shadow asked. 

“Yes but not for sleep, for obedience,” Mr Steel replied. Again Shadow was surprised by how forthcoming he was. “We can forcibly inject you if you would prefer?” Shadow took the hint and started eating calmly. “You see it’s working already.” Shadow scoffed but continued eating. 

“You don’t need to drug me, I told you the truth.”

“Perhaps.” 

As he ate a feeling of detachment came over him. He felt like he was floating in the sea. The room swam in his peripheral vision but otherwise it was quite nice. 

“What is your name?”

“Shadow Moon.”

“What is your real name?”

“Shadow Moon” 

“Don’t forget the vegetables, and drink up.” Shadow did. He felt odd. He couldn’t feel his fingers but he didn’t care. His foot started twitching occasionally but it was like it belonged to another person and he couldn’t stop it. 

“What is your name?”

“Shadow Moon,” he answered again. He expected Mr Steel to get frustrated but he remained just as calm as he’d started. 

“Who are you?”

“I’m-” Shadow paused. He wasn’t sure any more if the man with the twitchy leg was him or someone else. 

“Who are you?”

“I don’t know…” Saying the words was freeing somehow. Perhaps he didn’t have to know. Didn’t have to be anyone. Maybe he could be like Mr Town and Mr Steel, just become a thing. He could be Mr Wind and just blow away. 

“How did you and your associates escape from the raid on the funeral parlor?” 

“I hid. How did you find me?” Shadow asked, trying to hold on to his thoughts. 

“How did you hide them from us?” Mr Steel continued, ignoring his question. 

“I made everything else go away.” He said remembering his dream as he swept the army men aside. 

“Go where? Where are they?” Mr Steel asked. Shadow struggled to understand. 

“They are where they are… aren’t they?” Mr steel made a note and turned the page.

“You know you killed a lot of my colleagues on the train,” Mr Steel said without emotion. “Quite gruesomely I’m told.”

“I didn’t kill them.”

“Didn’t you? Then who did?” Shadow bit his lip. “And there was that business with The Children,” Mr Steel continued. “One had its spine removed.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shadow said, mostly honestly. His brain felt like it had been replaced with soup. 

“Where is Mr Wednesday?”

“I don’t know. I was looking for him. He left me behind... He lied to me,” Shadow was distantly ashamed of how pathetic he sounded. 

“We have intelligence that Mr Wednesday was looking for an artifact, a spear.”

“Gungnir”

“That’s right,” Praised Mr Steel. Shadow felt happy. “Does he have it?”

“Not anymore,” said Shadow, suddenly miserable.

"Where is it?" Asked the even voice. 

"Where the disappeared things go... Shiny things. It's my fault. I don't remember how to get it back," Shadow mumbled. He'd managed to fail both Wednesday and Sweeney in one action. Should he even care? They'd killed Laura. But Laura was still here? Laura forgave Sweeney. And she forgave Shadow. But Laura’s forgiveness didn’t always last. It’s like she felt she should forgive him but could never quite let things go and when she was angry the old wounds would bubble to the surface again. 

Fingers were snapped in his face. 

“Wha-?” 

“I asked you where they will meet?”

“Meat?”

“The old gods, where are they going?” Mr Steel asked. Shadow shrugged. Mr Steel pressed his fingers to Shadow’s slick forehead. Shadow leaned away. The man made a few more notes in his book and then tidied everything into his briefcase, placing each item carefully and precisely inside. He stood and knocked on the door which was opened for him. He exchanged hushed words with someone in the corridor about dosing and side effects and then left. Shadow was alone. 

He must have passed out again because he woke up later in his cell in the dark. Despite his earlier ambivalence, from then on he stopped eating. He’d come far too close to mentioning Laura, or Wednesday being his father. Both of which struck him as spectacularly bad ideas. He knew they could force him if they wanted, but there was no reason to make it easy. He’d been an idiot. 

He ran his fingers through his hair and paced. The lights had turned on and off three times since his interrogation so he assumed it had been three days. In that time he had not eaten and only drank from the wash basin which he assumed was perhaps unsanitary but unlikely to be drugged. His unfinished trays of food had been left with him, as if to make a point. He’d flushed as much as he could down the toilet and pushed the trays out of sight beneath the cot. When the smell of food scraps still wafted up to him he’d scrubbed the tray’s in the sink and put them back. No one had spoken to him. 

Since he was no longer drugged, he was focused enough to exercise but he needed to preserve his strength. He couldn’t stop himself from pacing though. He hadn’t had any more strange dreams. Which was actually weirder than having them. 

The lights went off and he kept pacing in the dark. Eventually he exhausted himself into a hungry and bitter sleep. 

They came for him in the darkness. They put a bag over his head and instead of cuffing his hands they bound them with rope. He was manhandled roughly down a corridor and tied to a chair. When the hood was removed he saw Shadow was in the same room as before, or one much like it. Mr Steel stood in front of him with a notebook and a bored expression. 

“Hello Mr Steel,” Shadow said. His throat was dry.

“Good Evening Mr Moon,” Mr Steel replied. “This is not my choice of methods you understand. But this is… traditional.” Shadow shrugged. It made no difference to him. “Are you sure there is nothing you would like to tell me? About your boss Mr Wednesday or his associates?”

“No thanks,” Shadow replied, voice cracking. Mr steel sighed and motioned to a man behind Shadow. Shadow flinched but instead a glass of water was pressed to his lips. He snapped them shut. 

“Do you remember my previous comment about forcible injections? You have my word that the glass contains only water,” said Mr Steel. Shadow shook his head slightly. The glass was removed. 

“You keep putting your trust in the wrong people, Shadow,” Mr Steel said. Shadow felt a twinge in his side. Still Shadow sat silently. “Very well,” said Mr Steel. He shut his notebook with a snap and left the room. After a few minutes another man entered. He was huge, with a shaven head and tattoos. They’d dressed him in a suit but he couldn’t be more out of place. This was the kind of man who couldn’t be a bouncer because he was too thuggish. 

“Ah… Now you are definitely Mr Ghetto,” Shadow chuckled. The man said nothing but the force of the first blow hit him squarely in the stomach. Shadow retched horribly. He jerked his hands against the ropes but nothing budged. The second blow dislocated his shoulder with a horrible pop. The Third caught him in the face. 

“Speak,” The large man ordered. 

“What would you like me to speak about?” Shadow asked as blood dripped from his lips. He was kicked savagely in the knee. Shadow bit back a scream. This was not a man worried about lasting damage. 

“Speak.” Shadow stayed silent and tried to prepare himself for the next blow. A large hand smacked him in the side of his head, making his ears ring. 

There was a pause as the man watched him, waiting for a response. Shadow wasn't about to give him one. After staring at him for long minutes of silence broken only by Shadow’s ragged breathing, the man beckoned to someone behind him. A man in a labcoat sidled nervously into view. He stuck a large needle into Shadow’s arm, pushed the plunger as quickly as possible and then left. Shadow could already feel these new drugs coursing through his system. Each beat of his heart made his head fuzzier. 

“Where is Odin?” Ghetto ordered. Shadow focused on staying silent. He couldn’t trust his judgement any more. He was slapped in the face. It stung against the earlier punch and made his eyes water. 

“Where is Odin?” Shadow stared at the floor. The larger man gripped his chin with vice like fingers and lifted Shadows head so that shadow was looking into his eyes. “Speak!” The man barked. Shadow felt laughter bubbling up within him and fought to keep it down. The drugs were doing something strange to his emotions. He felt like he was balanced on a knife edge between happy and sad, anger and madness. The man let go of Shadow’s head and stepped back. Shadow remained facing him and had a great view when the man slowly and carefully lined up before punching him square in the balls. Shadow jerked against the ropes. He thought he might be sick. The pain of the blow was somehow extended and looping in his feverish mind. The punch connected over and over again and he shook with the impact. 

“Speak!” But Shadow couldn’t speak. He retched and groaned. Then when he was punched in the kidneys he screamed. But he couldn’t speak. 


	2. Chapter 2

Shadow lay on a cold concrete floor. He wasn’t sure if he was laughing or sobbing but whatever it was sent spikes of pain through his stomach as he shuddered. His face was sticky with blood where it rested on the floor in a slowly drying pool of its own making. His hands were still bound behind his back.

Somewhere in the darkness came the sound of a key scraping in the lock. Shadow curled in tighter, not ready for another round of questions. The door banged open loudly, echoing through the corridor and Shadow heard someone swear under their breath. Light from the corridor spilled into his cell and made his eyes hurt. Quick footsteps came up to him. 

“Someone will have heard that, I suggest we leave in a timely manner.” 

Shadow groaned. Hands gripped his shoulders and tilted him upright. Shadow’s cheek peeled off the floor with a wet popping sound. 

“Shadow? My boy, are you with me?” Wednesday asked, holding him upright. 

Shadow’s head rolled on his shoulders as he tried to remember how to sit under his own power. He squinted up at Wednesday. 

“Y- you’re not a dream?” Shadow asked. His head still felt like a mess, thoughts twisted and throbbing. 

“Not generally,” Wednesday replied. He gave Shadow a concerned look.

“You were in a car, and then, before, in the tree I saw-” Shadow stuttered. 

“I’m afraid dream analysis will have to wait for your no doubt inevitable psychiatric break," Wednesday muttered quickly. "I need you to stand up and get a grip. Can you do that for me?"

Shadow blinked at him. 

“I’d slap you in the face but it looks like someone beat me to it,” Wednesday joked. 

An alarm blared and Wednesday gripped him with urgency. 

“Now!” Wednesday growled. 

Slowly, right knee protesting horribly, Shadow let Wednesday pull him upright. The pain cut through the drugs somewhat. 

"My hands are tied," Shadow mumbled as he tried to stop the room from spinning. Wednesday turned him around and lent him against the wall. He fiddled with the ropes, swearing. "Thought you were good with ropes and cuffs and things."

"I know a charm to free myself from any bonds, unfortunately it says nothing about _you_. Hold on." Wednesday stepped back for a moment and in a move that Shadow couldn’t quite follow, drew Vulcan’s sword from his coat. 

“You still have that thing?” said Shadow in disbelief. 

“Yes, I’ve been wondering what to do with it. Now keep still,” 

Shadow grit his teeth to stop his body shaking and tried not to flinch as behind him Wednesday used a 4 foot sword to cut the ropes around his wrists. 

“Done. Let’s go” 

Wednesday put Shadow’s arm over his shoulder and supported them as they limped down the corridor at high speed. Red lights flashed at regular intervals but no one was in sight. 

“What did you do with the guards?” Asked Shadow between panting breaths. 

“Never you mind,” Wednesday replied, barging them through a door into a stairwell. The metal stairs went up as far as Shadow could see, spiralling into the distance. Wednesday froze and looked upwards. The sound of many footsteps could be heard ringing from above. Shadow looked back down the corridor and then up the stairs. 

“Only one way out?” He asked. 

“There’s always more than one way out,” Wednesday said grimly. He licked his finger and stuck it in the air as though checking the wind. Then he fished around in his pockets for a bit and cursed. “How are you feeling? Is that head wound still bleeding?” Wednesday asked.

“What kind of a question is that?!” Shadow asked. “I feel like shit but we have other priorities right now!” 

Wednesday poked him in the forehead. Shadow yelped. The older man examined the blood on his fingers. “This will do.” He slammed the door to the corridor closed and started making angular marks on it in Shadow’s blood. Wednesday reached out to poke him again and Shadow drew back. Wednesday glared at him. “Do you want to be stuck here or not!? Hold still.” Despite his misgivings shadow held still and allowed himself to be used as a bloody inkwell. The footsteps and shouts were getting closer. 

“Wednesday...” Said Shadow weakly. “I don’t want to rush you but…”

“Just a little longer.”

“Wednesday…” Shadow saw shoes directly above him through the stairwell grating. “Wednesday!”

Wednesday grabbed him by the arm, ripped the door open and ran through, slamming it behind them. As it slammed, it disappeared. 

They weren’t in the corridor. They were in a cave lit by flaming torches. The air tasted stale and damp. Shadow’s head span and he lent on the wall for support. Wednesday dusted off his hands. 

“Let’s see them get through that.” 

“Where are we?” Shadow asked. 

“Backstage. We were in a bit of a bind and I couldn’t think of anywhere else.” 

“Backstage, like the carousel?”

Wednesday nodded, examining the cave walls, running his hand along them. 

“Are we safe here?”

“Yes and no…” He answered cryptically. 

“Well can they follow us?” 

“No, only your blood can pass through the door,” Wednesday answered distractedly. 

“My blood?” Realisation came to Shadow in an instant and he decided to test Wednesday. “So how did you get through?” 

When Wednesday turned around he looked completely unconcerned. 

“Because I was with you. You technically opened and closed the door and I was just along for the ride,” Wednesday smiled. There was no sign that he was telling anything but the truth, and yet… 

“Bullshit.” 

“Come again?”

“That worked-” Shadow took a moment to steady himself against the wall. “That worked because we have the same blood. You’re my father.” 

“...Interesting theory.”

“Wednesday I know! I saw it all when I was cutting down your little tree!” 

“Yggdrasil? What did the world tree ever do to you!” Wednesday said taken aback. 

“You- Lied to me,” Shadow growled, levelling a shaky finger at Wednesday. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing unnaturally loudly, in his back and his feet, hot and weak. He slipped down the rough walls and slumped against the floor. Wednesday was there in a moment, concern on his face. 

“We can’t stay here. The audience shouldn’t be backstage.” 

Shadow felt the thumping growing stronger and realised it wasn’t his heart but the cave wall itself. The entire cave was beating like a living thing. Wednesday pulled a small flask out of his coat and removed the cap. He put an arm around Shadow’s shoulders to steady him and pressed the flask to Shadow’s mouth. 

“Have a sip, but only one sip, it’s powerful stuff,” Wednesday said, tipping the flask ever so slightly. The moment the liquid hit his tongue it was gone and Shadow was left with a sensation like he’d licked a stick of incense. He felt stronger though, better than he had since being drugged, though no more focussed. Wednesday pulled him to his feet once more and Shadow looked around. The cave they were in was perfectly round with rough red walls. The Torches cast a flickering light onto a circle carved into the rock floor in the centre of the cave. Around it were various strange symbols and right in the centre a little dip like a bowl carved into the floor. The only exit was a small tunnel branching off from it. The tunnel was so tight that if they were to go down it they’d have to crawl on their stomachs. 

“I don’t like the look of that,” He muttered. Wednesday followed his gaze. 

“Do you want the good news or the bad news, said the surgeon to the amputee?” He asked wryly. 

“Both,” Shadow said flatly. 

“Good news is we’re not going down that tunnel, because there is no way we’d reach the surface before you died,” Wednesday answered. “Bad news is that our exit is worse, but it is at least quick.” Wednesday crouched down in the middle of the circle and then looked up. “Yes, this will work.” He withdrew the improbably large sword from his coat again and offered the hilt to Shadow. Shadow took the sword. 

“What do you want me to do with this?”

“You’ll be pleased to hear that we’re using my blood this time,” Wednesday said as he shrugged off his coat and unbuttoned his shirt. Down his side was a long scar. “Hold the blade out steady for me would you?” Shadow did. Wednesday took off his shirt and carefully cut it into one long spiralled strip. “Best to be prepared,” He said with a grim smile. He put the coat back on, leaving it open and shoved the strips of shirt into his pocket. 

Wednesday moved to the centre of the circle and then beckoned Shadow over. He moved over without limping or wincing. Wednesday looked pleased. “It won’t last, but it’s good that you’ve got strength. You’ll need it.” 

“What are we doing?” Shadow asked again. Wednesday gave him a twisted smile. 

“Have you ever had that nightmare about being buried alive?” Wednesday asked, his glass eye glinting strangely in the firelight.

“No…” 

“Ah… well, you might do in the future.” Wednesday set his hands on Shadows shoulders and pulled him into position opposite him. They were only inches apart so that they both fit inside the circle. 

“A word on ritual sacrifices: It’s very important once you start that you don’t interrupt the ritual or break the circle,” Wednesday said casually, as though instructing him on the right fork to use at a fancy restaurant. 

Shadow nodded. 

Then Wednesday dropped to his knees. He moved the coat aside and revealed his bare skin. “I need you to give me a cut, just here,” He said, running his finger along the scar. “It’s traditional. Not too deep mind, I’m not looking to sacrifice my life, just enough blood to get a good pool going. Once the bowl is filled, the ritual begins.” 

“You want me to stab you with a sword?”

“Go on, I trust you,” Wednesday said, smiling up at him. Shadow wasn’t sure he could say the same. 

He held the sword steady with two hands and, at a nod from Wednesday, carefully drew it across the other man’s side. Wednesday winced but otherwise bore it stoically. The blood flowed fast into the bowl at the centre of the circle. The moment it was full Wednesday clamped a hand over his wound and stood. Shadow noticed that his lips were moving and he was chanting quietly in a language Shadow didn’t recognise. 

Wednesday’s unsettling eyes looked into Shadow’s and he took the sword out of his unresisting hands. Whilst still chanting, he grasped Shadows left hand in his right and pressed it over the wound in his side. Shadow understood and kept up the pressure whilst Wednesday wrapped both hands around the hilt of the sword and raised it, point down. Then he stopped chanting. The room’s heartbeat increased rapidly and the rock walls started shaking. Shadow looked at Wednesday in alarm. Wednesday winked at him and plunged the sword down into the pool of blood. 

The room imploded. Or that’s what it felt like. With an almighty crack and a woosh of air. The lights went out and there was a sensation of incredible speed, like he was a bullet in a gun. Then shadow was aware of a pressure on all sides, he was crushed against Wednesday, the sword between them. 

Darkness pressed in on him, so hard he thought he might be crushed. He was deafened by an endless rumbling like an earthquake. Dirt filled his nostrils and pushed into his ears. He tried to scream but soil only invaded his mouth. 

He couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t move. 

As the rumbling ceased and the earth around him stopped shaking Shadow became aware of 1000 little wriggly things. The dirt was alive with worms and other small creatures disturbed by their sudden presence. They moved against the skin of his eyelids and under his fingernails. Shadow panicked and sucked in a lungful of soil. 

He was going to die. Deep underground in some other dimension. He became still and calm. His heart beat slowed. Finally, an end. In a moment of clarity he realised he’d been secretly waiting for this since Laura died... no, since his mom died. An end to all the decisions, all of the endless pointless days. Finally he was free. 

As he died a new sensation came to his attention. Under his left hand Shadow felt the steady pulse of Wednesday’s blood. 

Shadow started to thrash and shove, pushing against the ground wildly. He felt movement under his hand and a sharp sting against his arm. The sword was moving upwards. Shadow found the blade with his other hand and gripped it. He ignored as it cut his palm and continued pushing upwards. Slowly, inch by inch, the blade rose. He felt the resistance decrease and the dirt shift. Shadow’s chest burned with the urge to breath. Wednesday and Shadow continued to push the blade upwards. As the hilt broke through, a tiny shaft of light emerged. Hope swelled in Shadow’s chest and he became single minded. He pushed and contorted and slowly moved his arm into the gap. His hand hit open air. Shadow focussed on pressing against the soil and widening the hole, aware that Wednesday was doing something similar around them. Shadow kicked with his feet and clawed with both hands now, striving for the surface. His head broke through in a shower of black soil. Shadow spat out his mouthful of filth and inhaled breath after breath of air. Fresh air. It was like being reborn. Before he could help Wednesday, the other man’s head broke out next to his. Wednesday snorted black goop from his nostrils and sucked in air. Shadow set his hands against the ground and then pulled himself out. He staggered to his knees and wrapped his hands under Wednesday’s shoulders, pulling him out of the ground as well. 

They sat panting in a forest clearing as a light rain drizzled down on them. It looked to be late afternoon. Shadow coughed out more dirt and then dry heaved. He was able to roll over before vomiting on the floor, not that he could have made himself any dirtier. The vomit smelt like frankincense and stomach acid. Despite not having eaten carrots for days, it contained little orange chunks. Shadow wiped his mouth disgustedly and turned to Wednesday. 

“What. The fuck. Was that?” He demanded. Wednesday gave him a shit eating grin. 

“That, my boy, is what happens when you interrupt a sacrificial ritual with a great goddamned magical sword and shatter the circle,” He chuckled. Despite being stabbed and buried alive he seemed to be in good spirits. Shadow peered around at the grey sky and weathered tree trunks. 

“This looks normal. Are we still backstage?”

“Astute of you. No we are not, the blast knocked us into what you know as the real world. I was rather hoping it would wait until we reached the surface first but beggars can’t be choosers,” Wednesday shrugged lopsidedly. He pulled himself across the ground so that he could rest his back against a tree. 

Shadow saw that blood had started to soak into Wednesday’s coat. Concern overtook exhaustion and he limped over to the tree. He noticed grimly that his knee was back to its previous condition, as was everything else.

“Help me with this would you,” said Wednesday. He shrugged off his coat and pulled the strips of shirt out of his pocket, miraculously clean. He then pulled the flask out and looked at it critically. Then, with a regretful sigh, he unscrewed the top and tipped most of the contents onto the rags, soaking them. 

“What is that?” Shadow asked. 

“Mana. My use of it today has been disgustingly wasteful but needs must.” 

Wednesday started to wind the bandages around his wound and Shadow steadied him, holding one end. 

“I thought you knew healing charms or something?” Shadow asked. He was starting to feel light headed. 

“Sacrificial wounds are a bit more reticent,” Wednesday grunted. He looked Shadow up and down “I’ll be able to work my magic on you when I’m a bit stronger though.” When they were done bandaging Wednesday stood, leaning heavily on the tree next to Shadow. “A right pair we make,” he laughed. 

“I- I don’t feel too good,” Shadow muttered. 

“I’m not surprised, you’ve just thrown up the only thing you’ve drank for a week.” 

“A week?” Shadow said. Something was wrong, his limbs felt heavy and his blood felt was pooling in his feet. 

“At least. Time backstage is… unusual. It’s hard to predict due to the na-” Shadow heard nothing more as the ground rushed up to meet him and his world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've stolen a few lines from the book because they were so perfect. Chapter length will vary because I'm splitting where it makes sense for the story. Next one should be longer. Reviews give me strength.


	3. Chapter 3

Shadow cracked his eyes open. He felt like he’d been hit by a truck. He was lying on a bed. His filthy clothes were gone and a white bedspread was pulled up to his chest. He groaned and rolled over. Sitting four feet away on a bed much like his, was Wednesday, flicking through a road atlas. 

“Good, you’re awake,” Wednesday said by way of greeting. Shadow saw a glass of water on the nightstand and sat up to reach for it. He had a long drink and then put it back, drooping against the headboard. The simple action had taken all of his energy. 

“Where are we?” Shadow mumbled.

“Motel USA; an inspired name,” Wednesday said sarcastically over his road map. “Getting you out of that forest was a motherfucking saga I can tell you. Keeping you alive long enough for you to wake up wasn’t a barrel of laughs either.”

“I don’t feel that bad,” Shadow said defensively. 

“I did a little healing whilst you slept. Couldn’t risk the whole lot at once.” Shadow glanced at Wednesday’s side. There was no obvious sign of bandages under his shirt but he looked drained. "Going backstage after the care you received at The Facility was not good for you."

Shadow nodded, unsure what to say. 

Wednesday glanced over at him and slid off the bed. “Sleep, rest. Rejuvenate yourself. I will go fetch us dinner.” 

Wednesday slipped on his shoes and coat. Shadow noticed the blood stain was gone. "Don't die whilst I'm gone, I've invested a lot of time and effort in you." He tipped his hat and left. 

Shadow was left to think about his days of imprisonment. Everything was muddled up. He was supposed to find Wednesday and demand answers not have Wednesday find him and pull him back into weirdness. The fact that Wednesday had rescued him with what seemed to be a high degree of personal risk was not lost on him and it just made things even more complicated. Wednesday had abandoned him in Cairo, using him as some kind of distraction and yet now he was dragging him out of forests and healing him. 

He still didn't know how he felt about it. About him. He was sure he must feel half a dozen things but they all evened out into a flat uncertainty. And he was tired. The passion and righteous anger that had filled him in Cairo had drained away, leaving him more concerned with his next meal than anything more complicated. 

When Wednesday returned with Chinese food Shadow's stomach growled. Wednesday dumped the boxes on the small table by the window and dragged it over to his bedside. Then he picked up a chair and sat next to Shadow. 

"I got a bit of everything really but you might be best with the chicken noodle soup," Wednesday said, picking up a tub and some utensils and putting them on Shadow's night stand. 

"Chicken soup?" Said Shadow, feeling a moment of amusement. "I'm injured and you got me chicken soup."

"It's what they had, eat it or don't," Wednesday replied, busying himself with a tub of rice. If Shadow didn’t know better he'd say the old god was embarrassed. 

Shadow made himself as upright as he could manage and took the soup. They ate in silence. As the warm food filled him up Shadow felt his strength returning. Wednesday looked the better for having eaten as well and his mood had improved. 

"Never had that many dealings with the Chinese in my youth but I tell you what, they certainly know how to fry things," he said, licking his fingers greedily. 

"The soup is good too," Shadow said, hoping to provoke another flash of embarrassment but Wednesday ignored him.

“Alright, back to business,” Wednesday said, clapping his hands together. “Let’s have a look at you and see if I can put you back together.” Wednesday gestured to the bed sheets and looked at him expectantly.

Shadow was suddenly and uncomfortably reminded of his nakedness. 

“Umm…” Shadow hesitated awkwardly. "Did you remove my clothes?"

"You would have preferred to ferment there with beetles in your socks and worms in your knickers?" Wednesday asked with condescension dripping off every word. 

"Well no but…"

"To heal I need to see what I'm healing. I assumed in a choice between prudish and dead or exposed and alive you'd choose the latter but my mistake," he added sarcastically. 

"Can I at least have some underwear now?" Shadow asked, regretting this conversation already. Wednesday rolled his eyes but rummaged in a bag and threw a pair of boxers at him.

"Sure, I already healed your balls whilst you slept, less awkward for both of us."

Shadow’s brain ground to a halt and refused to process further. "...Was that really necessary?" 

"Only if you ever wanted children," Wednesday said seriously "You should have seen the swelling, lefty was the size of a grapefruit." 

"...you're messing with me."

Wednesday grinned "Yes I'm messing with you, but you make it so easy!" He said with a gleeful cackle. 

"Just to be clear, my balls are fine?"

Wednesday shrugged "As far as I know."

Shadow let it go and pulled on his boxers under the covers. Wednesday rolled his eyes again. 

"Ready, your royal prudishness?" 

Shadow shot him an exasperated look and moved the covers aside. "And I suppose you have no hang ups about nudity?"

"Why should I? I have the body of a god," Wednesday replied gesturing grandly to himself. Now it was Shadow's turn to roll his eyes. 

Shadow looked down at his own battered body. He was covered with bruises and small cuts but it was nowhere near as bad as he'd feared. 

"The worst parts are your knee and that cut on your hand. Your eye needs a little attention too," Wednesday said. Shadow pressed a hand to his eye and felt the tenderness there. 

“Ok so... What do I do?” 

“Lie back, close your eyes,” Wednesday said. Shadow hesitated. “If I was going to do something you wouldn’t like, don’t you think I’d have done it whilst you were unconscious?” Wednesday added, rubbing his hands together.

“If that’s supposed to be reassuring, it’s not,” Said Shadow, but he did as he was told anyway. 

“Now relax as much as possible. Think about being somewhere safe and restful.” 

Shadow tried to think restful thoughts. His mind took him to his bed at home with Laura, but that was too filled with bad memories now. Everything was. So he imagined somewhere he’d never been. Lying in a sunny meadow, under the shade of a large spreading tree. He was completely alone. 

“I’m going to touch you now,” Wednesday said. Shadow was glad he’d warned him but he still jumped at the touch of Wednesday’s fingers on his knee. “Relax...” Wednesday started gently moving his fingers around his kneecap, barely touching. Shadow could hear him chanting something softly. He felt a wonderful warming feeling spreading from Wednesday’s fingertips, into his knee. It tingled and as Shadow lay back, focusing on the feeling, it seemed to flow over him like a thick warm liquid. It sank through the skin and pooled around his nerves and muscles, the parts that had been most damaged, filling them with warm, syrupy relief. He relaxed into it as Wednesday moved his other hand to the underside of Shadow’s knee and stroked up and down. It was a tenderness he’d never expected from the man. Soon his knee felt as though it had never been injured. “Better?” Wednesday asked gruffly. 

“Yeah much, thanks,” Shadow said, opening his eyes. 

“Give me your hand.” Shadow did and once again Wednesday put his hands on either side. Shadow kept his eyes open and watched this time as he carefully traced around the large cut. In between strokes he also seemed to be drawing out symbols on Shadow’s palm. Before his eyes, the wound closed and faded as though weeks had passed in seconds. “It works better if you close your eyes and relax,” Wednesday said mildly, not looking up. 

“I was curious.”

“Well you’ll have no choice for this next one, unless you want to be poked in the eye.” He sounded tired and Shadow wondered how much it took out of him to do this. He lay back and closed his eyes. 

Wednesday's rough fingers circled around his left eye and temple. He then gently placed his entire palm over Shadow's eye. As the warmth drifted in shadow thought he detected a soft flickering yellow light through his eyelid like a candle flame. The soothing feeling continued and he found his headache clearing as well. 

Suddenly he was sitting in a warm wooden hall on a throne draped with furs. Large tables and benches were arrayed before him where warriors sat, joking and feasting. A fire burned in the center of the room covering everything with a warm flickering light. He felt calm and at ease. 

Just as suddenly he was back in bed and Wednesday was withdrawing his hand. Shadow opened his eyes. 

"What was that?"

"A memory. It happens sometimes with head wounds, don't worry about it," Wednesday replied. He looked old and tired and he sank onto his own bed. "That's enough for today."

"I think you got everything," Shadow said. He stretched out his previously injured muscles and felt much better. 

"I'll give the head wound another look tomorrow. Can't be too careful," he grunted. "Now I need to sleep." With that he turned out the light. Shadow heard him undress and slip beneath the covers. Before long he was snoring loudly. 

Shadow lay staring at the ceiling in the dark, more confused than ever. 

The next day, after another healing session, Wednesday asked him some questions about the interrogation. 

"What did they want to know?"

"Where you were, what you were planning, neither of which I could tell them," Shadow said a touch reproachfully. 

Wednesday grunted and motioned him to continue.

"Where the others were, if you had the spear, and then they asked who I was and what I was planning. Why do you think they did that?" Shadow worried they might have somehow figured out that he was related to Wednesday. If that was the case he'd never get any peace. 

"Due to your little stunt in Cairo I imagine they think you are god in disguise. They don't know about the world tree and its powers," Wednesday said, giving him a pointed look as he mentioned the tree. Shadow shrugged.

"I barely knew what I was doing. I don't have a plan."

"Isn't that the truth," muttered Wednesday. He shuffled through his collections of road atlases and tourist leaflets for a moment. "Did you tell them anything about Gungnir?"

"I told them you used to have it but now you don't," Shadow paused as Wednesday gave him a disappointed look. "I was drugged! I don't honestly think I was making much sense." Wednesday considered this. 

"I'd rather they didn't know we'd lost the spear, but overall this is fine. They learned nothing," Wednesday said, looking satisfied. 

"Because you never tell me anything."

"And what a wonderful incentive that is for me to continue to do so."

"Or you could try not disappearing as we're attacked?"

"Why don't you try disappearing as we're attacked too, that's a much more intelligent idea."

“Why piss off when I need you and then come back days later and save me?” Shadow said, giving voice to his thought of the last two days. 

Wednesday scoffed. “No need to thank me” 

Shadow gave up. 

“Thank you.” 

Wednesday grunted. He went back to staring at his maps. 

“This has put us back a few weeks but we can recover. We’re going to have to do a lot of driving in the next few days. If you’re strong enough?” He added as an afterthought. 

Shadow shrugged. “Sure.” What other answer was there? He was too tired to argue. Wednesday’s actions since the raid had only confused him worse. He wasn’t sure if he should be angry or grateful and he had the strength for neither. 

The next few days passed in a familiar blur of driving interspersed with motels and diners. Every so often he would drop Wednesday off somewhere and when he picked him up later he'd be either excessively jovial or bitter and angry. Either way he was impossible to talk to. Shadow had no clue what he was doing. The old god was playing his cards very close to his chest. 

Shadow had seen him one night in the doorway having a tense argument with one of his ravens although he didn't catch what was said. The ravens visited him openly twice a day now and Wednesday would always go off with them privately or else have them stand on his shoulder and whisper in his ear. It was unnerving. 

Other than that Shadow felt mostly numb. He knew nothing had been settled between himself and Wednesday. The whole question of why he was even here, doing what the man said, hung over him like a guillotine. He didn't want to have hard thoughts about Laura and Wednesday and death and betrayal. He wanted hard conversations even less, which seemed to suit Wednesday just fine. 

If he'd noticed that shadow was talking less, he hadn't mentioned it. Instead he either rambled on about nothing in particular, the way this town was laid out or the way that waitress reminded him of a girl he knew once, or he remained as silent as Shadow and they travelled together in an uneasy truce. 

Every so often Shadow would look at Wednesday and feel a spike of anger and in that moment he was always certain that this was it and he was leaving but it always fizzled out before he did anything. His anger waxed and waned in no particular rhythm as they drove from town to town.

Shadow stood in the latest hotel room, mindlessly putting his clothes on hangers and hanging them in the wardrobe. They were never in one place long enough for there to be any point, in fact it was a hindrance in case they had to leave in a hurry, but it filled the time so Shadow did it anyway. 

There was a hasty knock at the door. Shadow crossed over and opened it. In flew Wednesday and one distressed looking raven. Wednesday was covered in mud like he'd rolled through a ditch. 

"What happened to you?" 

"A mild but violent setback. We're being followed" 

"You were attacked?" Shadow asked with more concern, hastily taking clothes back off hangers and stuffing them haphazardly into his bag.

"If I weren't quite so quick thinking and light on my feet I would have been and then shortly after that I'd have been dead," Wednesday said matter of factly. 

"Wait a minute, 'dead', who wants to kill you," Shadow replied. Wednesday gave him a look.

"Who doesn't? From now on I want you close."

From then on Wednesday didn't go anywhere without Shadow in sight. He was always looking over his shoulder and Shadow often caught sight of a raven or two flying overhead. This hadn't made Wednesday any less secretive though. Instead of face to face meetings he was constantly having long hushed phone calls with Shadow just out of earshot. Being this close, Wednesday’s stubborn secrecy was even more difficult to ignore and it got on Shadow's fraying nerves. 

They remained in a state of high alert for a while but after a few more days of driving and no more close calls, Wednesday was back to his usual self. He saw a bar advertising 'The most buxom barmaids in the state' and directed them to stop off for a drink. 

Wednesday made a few enquiries about the local area and then spent the rest of his time happily flirting with the put upon barmaids. After a pointless half hour of this Shadow felt his frustration building again.

“Wednesday… what are we doing here?”

“Having an alcoholic beverage and enjoying the company of women inordinately blessed by puberty” Wednesday said, brushing him aside in his quest for the bar. 

“Not literally here. I mean in general, what's the plan? You've barely spoken to me in days," Shadow insisted. 

“I’m afraid this conversation will have to wait for another time, my boy,” Wednesday said abruptly. Then he did a U-turn straight out the door and started jogging across the parking lot. Shadow almost forgot to follow. 

“Where are you going? Are you seriously just going to avoid the conversation?”

“Later-” Wednesday caught sight of something over Shadow’s shoulder and paused. 

“Keep her busy for me,” Wednesday said, slipping into the car and shoving the key in the ignition. 

“What?” Shadow looked behind him and recognised the person rapidly advancing across the parking lot. 

“Shit.”

“My sentiments exactly, see you later.” Wednesday floored the gas and squealed off into the traffic causing several trucks to honk and swerve. 

The familiar figure ran the last few meters and swore loudly in frustration. 

“Was that Wednesday!?” She shouted, enraged. Whatever Voodoo had been done to her in New Orleans was starting to unravel and she was looking rather grey again, the flush was gone from her cheeks but the anger was clear in her voice. 

“You know it was,” He sighed. He didn’t want to do this now. 

“You’re still with him?! After what I told you! After all that’s happened?”

“Laura-“

“Fuck! Why do you follow him? He’s the reason you went to prison, he had me killed! Why don’t you hate him?” She shouted, throwing her hands up in the air and disrupting a small cloud of flies. 

“I don’t know.” There were a lot of competing reasons but that was the truth. 

“You’re betraying me, for _him_ ,” Laura pointed an accusing finger towards where Wednesday's car had disappeared. Shadow felt his grip on his temper disappearing. 

“Betrayal? _You_ want to talk abou-“

“Was Sweeney right? Are you ‘his man’ now?” She laughed and her lip twisted in distaste. “‘His man’. Perhaps that’s it? Perhaps prison changed you after all. Did you miss being fucked over by crusty old men?” She spoke slowly and clearly as though not wanting him to miss the cruel insinuation. She was baiting him. Recognising it didn’t stop a flair of righteous anger welling up within him. 

“Fuck you. You know I’m not the one who decided to mess around as soon as the other’s back was turned,” He shouted. She opened her mouth to retaliate but he interrupted her. “Three months! Fuck! I waited years for you. Maybe sex is what your mind leaps to because that’s what you’d have done in my place. You’d have fucked him. Or anyone really, first guy you come across. You can’t comprehend sticking to a promise or-“

“Sticking to a promise! Is that what this is? So you’ll just do anything he tells you, because one night in a bar you made a promise? I swore to kill him and you swore to protect him. So now what? Will you kill me?”

“I don’t kill anyone, that was in the agreement. Besides you’re already dead,” He saw how the blunt truth hurt her but he didn’t care anymore. 

“You killed Sweeny.” That one stung more than the rest. Shadow’s shoulders sagged and he ran a hand over his face. He turned to stare at the flickering streetlamps and then sighed wishing he could drive away from this conversation like Wednesday had.

“That was an accident,” He said eventually. She twitched as though she had the impulse to reach out and comfort him but was still too angry. She started pacing. "You've been following us," he added accusingly.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Revenge?”

“Yes. Revenge. I think I’m pretty entitled,” She snapped. “Going to stop me?” Shadow shrugged

“I won’t hurt you,” Said Shadow. 

“You kinda already did,” She sighed. He gave her a look. “I guess I started it,” Laura threw her hands up in the air. “This is a waste of time.”

Laura turned towards the nearest car and without hesitation she punched through the passenger window and opened the door. It was weird seeing her new found strength. Alien. She rummaged around until she found a key and slid into the driver’s seat. She paused.

“Where he goes, chaos follows and he gets other people to do his dirty work for him,” She said as she started the engine. “Just… for once Shadow, take hold of your life. Think about what you’re doing and why.” And then she drove away, just as fast and chaotically as Wednesday had. 

In the back of his mind he registered the advice as pretty good. Something Bilquis and Mr Nancy had been telling him. But it was the exact opposite of what he wanted right now. He was tired. Everything was so strange and so new that if he thought about it head on he might collapse in on himself and never get out. Just a little longer, a little more ‘going with the flow’ and things would be clearer. He could decide on a path then. 

He turned away from his late wife and went back inside the bar. He’d call a taxi back to the motel, and in the meantime he’d wait in the hubbub of music and voices all blocking out the outside world. 

The warmth of the bar was a welcome relief. He had no mobile thanks to Wednesday's hang ups so he asked at the bar. The barman pointed out an old pay phone on the back wall which was currently in use by an animated man with a bright red bobble hat. That was OK though, he was in no hurry. He sat at the bar and ordered a drink. He watched the bobble bouncing up and down as he tried not to think. He started to shred his bar mat as his anger and hurt simmered. 

He was on his second drink when suddenly his vision was filled with a red pom pom. He looked down with surprise to see Wednesday underneath it, half crouching besides him. 

"Is she gone?"

"...yeah"

"Good that could have been messy. I dislike the undead."

"What are you doing here? I thought you drove off?"

"And more importantly so does she. I did a lap of the block and came in through the back. Last thing she'd expect." 

"Where did you get the hat?"

"What hat?" Wednesday answered distractedly as he sat down on the stool next to Shadow and ordered himself a whiskey.

"The one on your head. Who were you calling?" 

"Someone who doesn't ask questions," he said pointedly, taking the hat off and shoving it in a coat pocket. Shadow gave up. He could see his quiet hour or two of getting drunk and forgetting about his messed up life disappearing.

"Did you and your dearly departed have a bit of a tiff?"

"I don't want to talk about it"

"Fine. A man is entitled to his privacy. Peanuts?” Wednesday offered him a dish of bar nuts. Shadow waved him aside irritably. 

“They’re unsanitary” 

“Ohh I see,” Wednesday said with false concern, popping a peanut in his mouth as he did. “Being over three thousand years old and never killed by a nut yet, I think I’ll chance it.”

“You’ve probably already caught every disease going,” Shadow muttered. 

“Probably,” Wednesday said agreeably. “Actually Gods don’t tend to get sick. Takes something a bit more visceral or metaphysical to finish us off.”

“What about me?”

“What about you?”

“Are we not going to talk about this? Our relationship?”

“I wasn’t aware we were in a relationship. Should I buy you flowers?”

“You being my father, that’s probably not the best idea.”

“Ah that relationship.”

“Yes _that_ relationship.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“What do I want to talk about?! You’re my father. You’re a god! I’m- I mean am I a-”

“A god?”

“Well, yeah?”

“No. You have god blood in you but being half-god isn’t as important as you’d think. Gods tend to spread themselves around. In old Greek you’d be called a hero. Where I’m from you’d just be called a bastard.”

“Great.” Shadow said flatly. Wednesday shrugged. "Well what about the rest of the family?" Shadow asked, a childhood worth of questions bubbling up within him.

“Well seems to me that you have it covered. You already know who your mother is. Your uncles and aunts are gone.”

“Siblings?”

“You don’t have any.”

“What about Thor?”

“He’s your half-brother, a full god and he’s gone too. You might have other half siblings around, I’ve rather lost track.” 

Shadow grimaced.

"So you and my mother…"

"What do you want me to say? That it was true love? That it was a fairy tale?" Wednesday scoffed dismissively. "We met at a club. A disco as they were called then. I worked my charms on her and she was mine for the night."

"One night?"

"I know, rotten luck eh? Us gods shoot mostly blanks and yet here you are," Wednesday spread his arms to encompass Shadow on his bar stool. 

"So she was just like the waitress and the barmaid? You just used her and left?" Shadow shook his head disgustedly. 

"Used her? I got something out of it yes but I can guarantee you she got something out of it too. Quite a big something. I never leave them unsatisfied, it's one of my charms," Wednesday added smugly. 

“God you’re awful,” Shadow muttered. Wednesday chucked and took another swig from his glass. “I mean it, you’re awful. The more I learn about you the less I like you.” Wednesday seemed to find this amusing too. 

“And yet you’re still here,” he answered and fixed him with a knowing eye. Shadow sighed and picked at the bowl of peanuts. 

“Yeah, I am.” Shadow replied. 

“Why?” asked Wednesday with the bored but polite tone of someone asking about the reasoning of this choice of wallpaper. 

“Don’t you know?” Shadow snapped. Wednesday raised an eyebrow and fixed him with an assessing stare.

“Probably,” He answered casually after an unsettling amount of time. Shadow waited. 

“Well?” He prodded. 

“Very, unsanitary those you know,” Wednesday smirked, stealing his peanut. 

"You're not going to tell me?" Shadow asked irritably. 

"My dear boy, if you don't know then it's best you find out for yourself. My telling you would only make you deny it," he said, licking the salt off his fingers. Shadow watched with dispassionate distaste as Wednesday reached into the bowl for another nut. 

"Laura was right you do bring chaos everywhere," he muttered. Wednesday looked momentarily confused before he followed Shadow's gaze to the bowl. 

"A little of my sterile godly spittle in a bowl of bar snacks hardly qualifies, but if you do decide to throw your lot in with her, I hope you'll terminate our agreement honourably before killing me." He did not look at all concerned. 

"How do you know I won't?"

"Because I know why you're here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wednesday always lies, except when he doesn't.   
> I have a fair idea of the direction for this fic but if there is anything you would like to see more of let me know and I'll see if I can add it in.


	4. The Aforementioned Saga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just how did Wednesday get Shadow out of the forest? A Wednesday POV chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just filling in some gaps from Wednesday's POV.

"-ature of the boundary between worlds," Wednesday explained. His sentence was punctuated by a thud. He looked over his shoulder to see Shadow face down in the dirt.

"Damnit!"

He took a quick glance around the forest clearing and hobbled over. 

"My boy? Are you still with us in the land of the living? Or indeed the conscious?" He asked, shaking Shadow by the shoulder and turning him over. He was out cold. Wednesday pressed a hand to Shadow’s temple. He was in no condition to actually heal the man but perhaps he could take the edge off. He sent a cursory tendril of magic into Shadow's body and as he'd thought, on top of the obvious wounds Shadow was dehydrated and malnourished. There was also some sort of head wound.

Wednesday considered his options as rain ran down his filthy neck and snuck beneath his collar. There weren't many. He could wake Shadow but he'd only ever be half conscious and that could do more harm than good. Wednesday let a little bit more power flow through him into Shadow. Enough to prevent lasting harm and keep him in a deep sleep. He sighed. 

"Well shit."

He was alone and wounded, with an unconscious companion, in the middle of an unfamiliar forest, probably still being hunted by the men in black. The odds weren't great. 

Wednesday cracked his knuckles. He was used to beating shit odds. He did a quick lap of the clearing but there were no obvious paths or roads in view. He looked up. The open sky worried him. The old god pulled out Vulcan’s sword and held it in two hands. Then he swung it at the nearest sapling with all his strength, the sapling teetered over. 

By the time the sun started setting he had removed his coat and was covered in sweat. His side was protesting horribly along the cut but he ignored it. He had progress in the form of several stout poles of wood and a lot of smaller branches. Huginn flew in as he was setting them up. 

"Nice of you to finally arrive," Wednesday grumbled. "How far are we from the compound?" 

The raven told him. It was not nearly far enough. 

Wednesday pulled out his flask and drained the last of the mana. It filled him with warmth and energy but it wouldn't last. 

"Find me the nearest vehicle. And get Muninn over here!" He added as Huginn disappeared. 

Wednesday set about building a small shelter around Shadow’s prone form, only slightly bigger than he was. It gave him something to do and he wasn't sure how long he'd be gone. He covered it with ferns and leaves to keep the rain out and disguise it from the air.

When Huginn returned, he also brought Muninn with him.

"Well?"

"Compound," crowed Huginn. 

"I was afraid of that. Are they still looking for us?" 

Huginn fluffed out his wings in the raven version of a shrug. 

"Alright. You," he pointed at Huginn, "stay and protect Shadow. Keep him safe and don't be seen. If he dies I'm holding you personally responsible." Huginn puffed up indignantly but settled in the tree near Shadow’s shelter regardless. "You," Wednesday gestured to Muninn, "are coming with me. We are about to do something extremely stupid." 

Wednesday limped off through the forest with Muninn scouting ahead. It was slow going and there was only just enough light left to see by. The pain in his side was slowing him down, mana or no and it frustrated him no end but there was nothing he could do about it. Before long Muninn cawed a warning to him and he stopped grumbling so audibly. He could see lights up ahead. 

The edge of the compound was concerningly close to their clearing. It was surrounded by a tall fence of barbed wire and there was a corrugated bunker in the distance but this side was a small parking lot. Wednesday crouched in the tree line and reviewed the available vehicles greedily. Not too far away was a Jeep that would be perfect. However between him and his prize were several meters of floodlit tarmac and on each lamppost sat a small nest of cameras. There was no way he was going to sneak in. The old god smiled. He lived for moments like this, the exhilaration of approaching battle. Not that he could afford to waste time fighting, he reminded himself, he needed to get Shadow out of here as quickly as possible. Wednesday took a deep breath and drew Vulcan’s sword.

In three quick slashes he opened up a hole in the fence and sprinted through heading straight for The Jeep. The door was locked but there are few doors that can't be opened by the leverage afforded by a two handed sword wedged into the opening. As soon as he was in he dove under the driver’s seat and ripped out a panel, relying on Muninn to keep watch. Hotwiring a car was one of his many mundane talents and it took him only moments. 

A piercing cry from the raven was drowned out by the sudden sound of gun fire. Wednesday ducked low and punched the gas, completely unable to see where he was going. Shouts rang across the compound and bullets perforated the body of the car around him. The passenger window shattered. Wednesday was showered with shards of glass. The car screeched blindly through the parking lot.

"Left!" Muninn shrieked from above. Wednesday turned a hard left and chanced a look over the steering wheel long enough to line up with the fast approaching red and white barrier. The car smashed through it with ease and he skidded onto a gravel road surrounded by trees. Wednesday peaked above the dashboard again. He roared up to a T junction and immediately turned away from the clearing. Then he sat up straight and enjoyed what he imagined was likely to be a short reprieve from being shot at. If he was going to get Shadow out of here he needed a distraction. Unfortunately he would also have to be that distraction. Hopefully he could lead the enemy away and then double back somehow. As the jeep wove through the forest he tried frantically to think of a plan. 

"Cars!" Cawed Muninn urgently from above. 

"Already!?" Wednesday shouted. He looked in the rear view mirror and could see headlights flooding the road. What's more they were gaining on him. 

"Gas!" Muninn shrieked. 

"What do you think I'm doing you infernal bird?! This is as fast as it goes! Scout ahead." 

The raven pulled away ahead of him. 

Driving this fast on such a winding road was not to be advised. If the guns didn't kill him an unexpected tree branch just might. Shots started to ring out behind him but they went wide. They were having as much trouble shooting as he was driving. 

Muninn suddenly shot through the window. 

"Trap!"

"A road block? Shit!" Wednesday felt his options running out. He reached into his coat pocket with one hand and then swore again. "Make yourself useful, find me something to write with." Muginn tore through the glove compartment, tossing its contents everywhere as Wednesday swerved wildly on the loose gravel track. The raven tapped on his arm and Wednesday took a small cylinder from its beak. 

"Lipstick?" Wednesday huffed. "It'll have to do." Muninn hopped up on to the dashboard and peered out. 

"Not long." The bird advised. "Plan?" 

"Yes but its extraordinary stupid," he said, pulling the cap of the lipstick off with his teeth as he drove and starting to scrawl on the dashboard. "You're going to want to get out of the car." Muginn gave the runes one look, squawked and flew through the window like the car was on fire. 

The lights of the roadblock glared in front of him. Headlights and gunshots greeted him from behind. 

"Let's see if they fall for the same trick twice," Wednesday said grimly. Then he took a sharp left off the track and into another world. 

There were no trees backstage. Instead the chalky red surface was littered with small black pools that reflected the unnaturally bright starlight with eerie clarity. Wednesday screeched into a U-turn. He'd started a mental clock. Shadow was stable but he wouldn't last long without attention, and definitely not if they found him. Every second he spent backstage could be who knows how long out there. Luckily it was very clear where he needed to go. In the distance the night sky was broken by a huge tower of flame spilling out of the ground. 

Wednesday gunned it across the landscape. He gave the pools a wide berth but otherwise the ground was fairly flat and smooth and his stolen jeep bounced merrily along the alien earth at 90mph. He counted down the seconds as he drove. 

As he got closer he could see the destruction more clearly. The pillar of flame towered above him like a skyscraper but it was very narrow, coming out of a perfectly round hole only a few feet across; the exact size of the sacrificial circle he had destroyed to create it. The hole was at the bottom of a small crater in the red earth which was scattered with dark forest soil. 

Wednesday grit his teeth as the edge of the crater got closer and closer. 

“Come on, come on…” 

Just before he hit the edge he slammed the brake and pulled the steering wheel sharply to the left. 

The car came to a jarring halt. Wednesday just had time to see a tree topple into view over the roof of the car before it smashed the windscreen. Wednesday was sprayed with tiny cuts. The tree trunk rolled off the hood and on to the ground with a crack and a dull thud. The airbag went off, hitting Wednesday in the chin and immediately bursting on the broken glass with an ear splitting pop. Then all was silent. Wednesday took a moment to unclench his jaw. Then he stepped out of the car. 

It was completely dark now but the headlights illuminated the clearing. The tree trunk had stopped miraculously just short of Shadow’s shelter. If Wednesday weren’t a god himself he would have thanked some. The cut end of the trunk was smooth as polished metal. Wednesday peered beneath the car. He could see a tree stump jutting up from the ground until it met perfectly with the undercarriage. Backstage he knew there would now be a perfectly cut piece of tree trunk the height of the car, rolling down into the crater. 

Wednesday was relieved to see Muninn perched on Shadow’s shelter looking ruffled by his sudden appearance. 

“Where’s Huginn?” Wednesday asked. Muninn nodded towards the open sky. Wednesday grunted in approval. Then he asked the question he’d been dreading. “How long has it been?” 

“Five hours,” Muninn cawed. Wednesday sagged with relief. Apparently the barrier between worlds was weaker here now. Probably due to their explosive stunt earlier. Huginn flew in from above frantically and seemed relieved to see Wednesday. 

“Had any attention since I left?” Wednesday asked. 

“Helicopters. Many men.” 

“When did you last see them?” The raven cocked its head to the side in thought.

“Two Hours.”

Wednesday looked around. The fallen tree would no doubt attract attention. On the plus side with the tree gone, he now had a way to drive out of the clearing. 

“Muninn, find me a route through the forest. Huginn, keep track of our friends with the helicopter.” 

He went to check on Shadow. The night air was cold and wet. He was glad he’d bothered to make Shadow a shelter. Even with his forethought, when he took the shelter down, he found Shadow looking impressively dead, but a hand to his neck confirmed that his heart was still beating. Wednesday let a little more healing energy flow into Shadow. He felt the loss immediately but there was no point to any of this if Shadow died. 

A seed of doubt crept in. By all measures this rescue had been foolhardy. He’d come far too close to getting himself killed, and he was still in the middle of enemy territory. Why had he rushed in like this? Shadow might have been able to hold on a little longer in captivity. If not… well he could always get someone else to take his place. The plan wasn’t without backups. Whilst it would have set him back, surely it wasn’t worth risking his life for? He was getting impatient in his old age. A niggling thought in the back of his mind suggested he would miss Shadow if he died. He squashed it down. This was no time for sentiment. They were in a war after all. 

Wednesday grabbed Shadow under the arms and dragged him towards the Jeep. He opened the rear door and took a deep breath, then he heaved and hoisted Shadow up into the footwell. Shadow was a big guy and Wednesday’s side screamed in protest at the effort. He supposed Shadow would be less comfortable on the floor but at least he’d have less chance of being shot. Wednesday slammed the door and limped around the car clutching his bandages. He pulled out the sword and smashed both brake lights. There was no sense in giving the enemy a target. 

He was just removing what was left of the windscreen and wiping glass off the driver’s seat when Muninn returned. 

“Can you get me to a road?”

“Yes…” The raven croaked cautiously. 

“But let me guess: I’m not going to like it. Very well,” Wednesday grumbled and climbed into the car. 

Reversing out of the clearing produced a horrific scraping noise as the stump cleared the undercarriage, probably taking some bits of car with it. Hopefully nothing important. As soon as he was free of the clearing he turned off all the car’s lights. He’d have to use Muninn and the moon to guide him. They trundled through the forest far too slowly for Wednesday’s liking but any faster and they wouldn’t have stood a chance. Muninn led him on a winding route that had him scraping between trees through gaps only just wider than the car and in some cases not quite wide enough. He lost both wing mirrors in the first 10 minutes. They were making progress though and eventually they hit a small ribbon of clear air. 

It was a ditch, and in the ditch ran a small stream. Wednesday was able to straddle it with a pair of wheels on each bank. From then on they wound through the forest with water glittering in the moonlight ahead of them like a path of beaten silver. 

When Huginn finally returned, the sound of chopper blades beating the air was close behind. In the distance Wednesday could also hear the sound of engines, probably some sort of motorbikes. The helicopter spotted them as soon as it flew over and caught them in a searchlight beam, illuminating them for all to see. Wednesday swore in old-Norse; a curse on the pilot's mother and sheep. 

“Time to take a leaf out of Thor’s book, I think”. Wednesday was no weather expert. He was better at calming storms than creating them, but in pinch, and with mana still flowing through him, it should work. Besides he’d called forth storms before, just not on such short notice. He turned on cruise control and let go of the wheel experimentally. The car kept rumbling along, following the path of the stream. Wednesday grunted with satisfaction. 

“If necessary take the wheel. Don’t crash,” He ordered Huginn and he pushed the seat right back. Huginn squawked at him in alarm but Wednesday ignored him. There was no sunroof. He’d have to fix that. 

The tip of Vulcan’s sword thrust through the roof of the car and cut through the metal like butter. Wednesday peeled it back like the lid on a can of tuna and the car filled with rain and light. The sound of the helicopter was deafening now. It had come lower, almost brushing the treetops. He couldn’t hear them but he imagined the motorbikes were getting closer. He wished he still had Donnie’s old hammer, Mjölnir, but he would have to make do. 

A spotlight shone down on Wednesday as he stood, rising up through the hole in the roof. The wind whipped through his hair and coat, blowing them backwards. He began to chant, deep and loud, spreading his arms wide. He called on the clouds and the rain, the lightning and the thunder. In old tongues he sang to the sky for her blessing. As he shouted over the din of the helicopter blades he raised his fists above his head. Then, with one almighty roar, he brought them down on the roof of the car with a force that dented the metal and echoed into the air. It wasn’t strictly necessary, but when dealing with storms it often pays to be dramatic. 

Wednesday was rewarded with a flash of lightning and a rumble of thunder. The storm was here and it was close. The rain came down in sheets now and a fierce wind tore through the trees and threw leaves in his face but Wednesday didn’t risk ducking back inside the car to see how Huginn was getting on. He needed to time this perfectly. 

The helicopter was already struggling with the increased wind and gained a little height to avoid the swaying trees. Another fork of lightning struck and this time the thunder was practically simultaneous. ‘Third time’s the charm’, he thought. Wednesday thrust the sword into the air with one hand and called the lightning to him. A jagged fork of electricity stabbed out of the sky. It hit the Helicopter above with a shower of sparks and an echoing bang. The Helicopter’s blades whined desperately as they slowed and the whole thing listed to the side. Wednesday ducked inside the car and slammed his foot on the gas, taking the wheel from a panicked raven. 

Moments later a fiery mess of metal fell from the sky and crashed into the trees behind them. There were a few more bangs and then the whirring of the blades was gone, replaced with the roaring of the storm. Wednesday glanced into the rear view mirror and saw the forest on fire. 

They followed the stream without further incident as it widened and flattened. Eventually they came across a wide concrete bridge which Wednesday tucked under and killed the engine. According to Huginn the road above them ran into town. He judged it would be better to wait until things had died down a little, relying on the chaos of the fire to keep the enemy busy. Beyond that he was just bone tired. He checked on Shadow, who was still impressively, stubbornly alive, before he collapsed into his seat. Muninn had returned to them and he stroked her feathers gently. 

“Keep watch. I just need to close my eyes for a moment,” He said feeling the weakness wash over him. “Wake me just before dawn.” 

Wednesday woke with a gentle flutter of feathers, feeling awful but a little stronger. He couldn’t wait here any longer. They’d spot him eventually and they would need to ditch this car and find another as soon as possible. Wednesday left the car and stretched. Then he pried off the licence plates. The car wasn’t exactly unremarkable due to the ripped off roof, missing windscreen and smashed brake lights but at least their hunters would have to rely on human eyes and not algorithms. 

He checked on Shadow and gave him another dose of healing. His heart rate had slowed and his breathing was shallow. He was getting worse. He’d need a full healing session soon but Wednesday couldn’t spare the energy. He only had so much belief coming in and it was a tiny fraction of what he had in his youth. 

Muninn slept as Huginn led Wednesday onto the road above and through the pre-dawn mist. As they drove the route started to become familiar and before long they turned off into a small parking lot by the side of a trail. Wednesday gave a shout of happiness. There, where he’d left it, sat Betty. 

He couldn’t have planned it better. The Cadillac was warded against pursuit. No living eye could follow it without losing their concentration and no electronic brain could process it, it was a mild protection but very effective. 

He pulled up alongside the car and, with much grunting and messing around, managed to slide Shadow off the floor of the Jeep and directly onto Betty’s back seat. Wednesday felt a little bad for all of the rough treatment Shadow was getting and tried to make him comfortable. It was stupid really, Shadow would remember none of this, but he did it anyway. Then he covered him with a blanket to hide him from view, feeling somewhat silly. 

Leaving the county was a tense affair, every glance his way made Wednesday grip the wheel tighter but soon they were on the open road and it felt as though they had lost their pursuit. Wednesday let Huginn rest as he drove. He wanted to put as much distance between the compound and himself as possible before they stopped whilst avoiding highways. 

Eventually, as the light left the sky, Wednesday pulled into a small motel, many miles and two states from where they’d started. He parked up right outside the room and then went inside to wait. He couldn’t risk moving Shadow from the car until the foot traffic had died down, or else they would draw unwanted attention. 

Wednesday leaned on a stained sink and examined his face in the mirror. The rain had already washed much of the dirt from his face and clothes but he was still grimy and covered in cuts. He washed them out with water and checked his bandages. The mana had dried up and the wound was sealed so he tossed them away. It still stung horribly but he’d had much worse. The weakness was the real problem. He’d been calling on a lot of magic and miracles lately and it pulled at his essence. With nothing else to do until later, Wednesday set an alarm and lay gratefully down to sleep. 

At 3am he snuck out to the car and half-carried, half-dragged Shadow inside. His physical strength and metaphysical strength were linked and so by the time he got Shadow through the door he collapsed to his knees. 

“You better be worth it.” He muttered to his unconscious companion. He knew he should lift Shadow on to the bed and do the full healing session now but he just had nothing left in him. He made sure Shadow wasn’t going to die, left him on the floor and crawled back into bed. 

He woke up the next day at 4pm. As soon as he got out of bed he was greeted by the sight of Shadow lying, filthy and broken on the floor and looking worse than ever. He felt a twinge of uncharacteristic regret. It wasn’t guilt, he told himself, it was just that now the work would be that much harder. 

He left to buy disinfectant and bandages from the pharmacy. He also picked up a few leaflets about local attractions for research and some food. When Wednesday returned he carefully dragged Shadow into the bathroom and set about the long task of removing the dirt. Shadow was covered in tiny cuts and injuries and though he'd never had to worry about it personally, Wednesday knew the risk of infection was very real. He removed Shadow's sodden clothing and threw it in the bath. A couple of small insects wriggled out of it. Each cut was sponged clean and disinfected. He hadn’t the faintest clue how to feed an unconscious person safely and going through all this trouble just to choke him seemed a bit of a waste, so he’d use charms for the starvation and thirst. 

He tucked his arms under Shadow’s legs and back and carried him to the other bed. Now the real work began. Wednesday carefully ran his hands over every injury, reaching out with his senses to determine the seriousness of each. He took a few slow breaths and drew on memories of his old hall, the warm light, sweet mead and pleasant company. He let the feeling of strength and calm fill him with warmth and pushed that warmth into Shadow as his hands moved over broken skin fixing anything serious and then going back for another pass. As he reached Shadow’s head he felt a flash of thoughts. 

He was suddenly, jarringly, in Shadow’s old house. Laura sat on the bed in her underwear with her knees pulled up and her arms wrapped around them. She was staring off into the distance through the window. Wednesday watched from Shadow’s eyes as he placed a tray of breakfast on the side table. 

“Good morning beautiful, I love you,” Shadow said. There was a barely noticeable hesitation before she answered. 

“I love you too.” 

He kissed her.

Wednesday snatched his hand away and as it broke contact with Shadow’s skin, the memory ceased. He cursed. 

“You were wasted on her,” Wednesday told Shadow. “She never loved you. Her death would have been good for you, but you just can’t let go, can you?” He snapped frustratedly. He sighed. There was no point. He’d have to be more careful healing Shadow’s mind. He decided to lift the magically imposed sleep and then continue healing when Shadow was awake and could control his thoughts. The briefest touch necessary to remove the charm flooded his mind with more unwanted images of married life. His lip twisted distastefully. It was done. 

Now he would just have to wait for Shadow to wake on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering how a raven can take the wheel of a Jeep, Huginn is wondering the same thing.  
> Next Chapter will be back to Shadow POV and the main story.


	5. Chapter 5

In the days following Wednesday’s near brush with Laura he directed Shadow on a winding tour of the American West that Shadow first thought was designed to shake their tail but he now believed was purely to frustrate him. 

“Where are we going?”

“Several locations important to our mission and on the way, half a dozen less important places,” Wednesday answered enigmatically. 

“Thanks for clearing that up,” Shadow grumbled.

Where they did appear to be going, was to a load of trashy tourist traps. They stopped at one roadside attraction after another spending bizarre afternoons staring at collections of dolls heads or sculptures made from beer bottles. At each stop Wednesday would explore with great interest and obsess over strangely mundane details. He would touch, sniff, (and on one occasion Shadow swore even lick) the handles of cabinets, the racks of postcards or the corners of rooms. He seemed to be searching for something, though he never said what and Shadow gave up asking. As they drove, Wednesday’s collections of maps and brochures became bigger and more complicated. Ballpoint pen scratched across them in illegible scrawl and routes were highlighted, crossed out and then circled again. The back seat of the Cadillac was becoming a midden of brightly colored paper. 

Shadow was no longer numb, and on their long tour he had plenty of time to think. If he couldn’t work out what Wednesday was doing here he could at least work out what he, himself was doing here. At least that was the plan, so far it hadn’t been going so well. When he got out of prison he'd just kind of fallen into Wednesday’s employment. Actually that wasn't right. He'd done everything he could to avoid Wednesday’s employment but in the end it had seemed to be the only way to get the man to leave him alone long enough to go to his wife's funeral. 

And then after that, between the lynching and Laura coming back and his strange dreams, Wednesday was the only one who didn't think he was going crazy. Or at least, Shadow corrected himself, didn't seem to view crazy as a bad thing. And he wasn't crazy. It was all real. All of it. The more he learned the more questions he had and somehow he just never ended up leaving. He’d thought about it, but it was never the right time. And where would he even go? He had nothing left. He supposed he could go anywhere. The idea would be liberating if it wasn’t so depressing. At least traveling with Wednesday wasn’t depressing he thought as he looked out over the parapet of one man’s idea of a fantastical castle. 

Wednesday wandered up next to him and lent over the balustrade admiring the view. Towers of stone topped and twined with thin metalwork sculptures and bridges jutted up around them, with dragons and stained glass competing for roof space. Surrounding the castle was a thick forest. It was like something out of a fairytale. 

“Incredible isn’t it? What one man’s passion can do,” Wednesday said.

“Yeah it is. I got you this,” Shadow handed him an information leaflet. Wednesday took it with a happy hum and tucked it into his breast pocket. “Apparently he hadn’t intended to build a castle, only a cabin or cottage but it grew and changed into all of this.”

“It’s often the way with sites of power, especially in America. When people build on sacred ground like this they are tapping into the belief of the land, the potential for it. The people you’d call Native Americans weren’t really ones for towering permanent structures, they had their own ways. By the time the settlers arrived the country was largely empty of manmade religious edifice and filled with eons of potential belief. Some people are sensitive to it and it affects them in different ways,” Wednesday tapped the side of his head as though indicating someone was a bit out of touch with reality. “Sacrifices, ceremonies, hoarding relics, giving offerings, that sort of thing. With so many new people it stood to reason that some would be builders. And build they did!” Wednesday gestured grandly. “Consumed with spiritual vigour and compelled to create until it consumes them. It makes a god feel good!” 

“And yet America is a bad land for gods,” Shadow quoted. 

“America is a bad land for gods. So much belief and yet so little focus. It’s like starving at a buffet,” he sighed heavily. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

Even with his body at the small roadside dinner, Shadow’s mind was still elsewhere. 

Was he supposed to go back to a normal life now, knowing all this existed? Gods and myths and magic? It was amazing. It was also dangerous, this new world. He'd nearly died several times. He'd been captured and tortured. Shadow idly shuffled the vegetables around on his plate and frowned as he realised he didn't care. Surely he should care? But then he was a dead man anyway when all this was over. He'd already given away his life in a game of checkers on behalf of a cause he hadn't even cared about. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Complete lack of appetite apparently. Are you going to eat that or just mush it to bits?” Wednesday scoffed, jabbing a fork in his direction. 

“Did I say that out loud?” Shadow asked, alarmed. 

“Must have done. Eat your greens.” 

Shadow rolled his eyes and ate his greens. 

He must be depressed. This was all some sort of cry for help, some suicidal recklessness. After all he'd lost everything. His wife and best friend were dead, for the most part, the job he had lined up was gone, he had no family, unless he counted Wednesday, which he did not. 

Wednesday might be his biological father but the only remotely fatherly thing he’d ever done was telling him to eat his greens. Where had he been when he was growing up and his mother was struggling with money and then later dying a slow death? 

Or perhaps he was punishing himself. Going along with Wednesday’s deal was some sort of penance. 

He should never have robbed the casino, he thought as they drove along endless back roads. It was Laura’s plan and he said he'd done it for her, but was that true? He'd wanted the excitement too, felt allured by the thrill of it. He'd known it was a terrible idea. He should have said no and talked about what was really bothering Laura. She felt stifled in her job and her life. Maybe even by him. He saw something was wrong but kept hoping that with enough hugs and kisses it would just go away. He could have fixed it. Instead he wanted an excuse. Some big, quick, simple gesture to fix everything instead of the many little complicated ongoing things that were probably required. And now he felt guilty so he was following Wednesday around. But that made no sense. Laura hated Wednesday. Surely if he felt guilty he’d be helping her? 

Shadow groaned and startled Wednesday from his customary, post-lunch nap. Great, he’d get no peace now until they stopped for the night. 

The next few days were long ones as they traveled steadily South exchanging the slight chill for a building heat. They continued on as they had before stopping at odd little dives and attractions with little obvious success. Wednesday still looked cheerful but Shadow could tell he was weighing something up in his mind. He'd started playing with a coin the same way Shadow did, rolling it across his knuckles. 

At some point he sighed, chucked the maps onto the back seat and started navigating them away from civilization. 

"Where are we going?" Shadow asked, only half expecting an answer. 

"We are going to ask for directions," said Wednesday.

"Are we lost?" He replied in confusion. 

" _We_ aren’t."

At Wednesday’s instruction he turned off the main road onto a barely noticeable track. They weaved through the landscape slowly as it became wilder. Though the track continued into the distance Wednesday asked him to pull over by a weathered tree surrounded by low hills and bushes. 

"We shall proceed on foot from here on," he said, exiting the car. They continued on foot for around 15 minutes until a coyote slunk onto the path before them. 

"Stop right there." The coyote said. Shadow jumped and then admonished himself for it. This was hardly the weirdest thing he’d seen. 

"Coyote my old friend! I didn't expect a welcoming committee," Wednesday greeted with a wide smile. 

"Expected to be able to sneak right up to the lodge is more like it," Coyote replied. Then he changed into a man. There was no morphing or shifting like a werewolf in a movie, one second he was a coyote and then, without seeming to change at all, he was a man. As though it had all been a trick of the light. He was Native American with long hair and dressed in dusty brown jeans and a white t-shirt. It was hard to guess his age. He had some lines around his eyes but there was a youthfulness about him. He did not look pleased to see them.

"Would I do a thing like that? I’m honored to have an escort, lead the way," Wednesday said strolling forwards. Coyote immediately moved into his path. 

"No. You're staying right here."

"What about the others? I wanted to talk to them, give offerings," 

Coyote snorted a laugh at that but then his face turned stony again. 

"You're dealing with me one-eye, none of the others can stand you. Who's this?" He gestured at Shadow. 

"How very impolite of me, allow me to introduce Shadow my- bodyguard." There was the briefest of hesitations in Wednesday's introduction but Shadow heard it. Coyote grunted and nodded at him. "I must say you're being uncharacteristically serious and grim, why don't we sit a while and tell tales, talk tricks?" Wednesday said amiably. 

"Times are serious and grim. We want nothing to do with this war of yours but we're feeling the effects anyway," Coyote barked and started to pace. 

"All the more reason to join us now, fight for your share of the belief." 

"We're doing fine, my tales are still told, across many nations, I don't need to go proselytizing to white men."

"The New Gods will come for your lot too. They already have; smart phones, Hollywood and designer drugs, it's destiny-"

"We've seen a bit of destiny," Coyote gave Shadow a grim look "I hope there's still some America left to fight over after your war."

"What's that supposed to mean," Wednesday said defensively. 

"I heard about a sacrificial altar torn asunder and a pillar of unending fire in the sky."

Wednesday waved him away dismissively. "Oh that story has been blown out of proportion. It was just a little crack, besides it’s the northerners' problem not yours."

"I travel. Why are you here? You must know you are never going to convince us to fight with you after all the blood between us. Your people slaughtered mine."

"We did no such thing. There was a skirmish or two I admit but only a little blood was spilled and to the benefit of both sides. You're thinking of the Christians. The New Gods are the same, they will not coexist they will destroy all of us."

"You are all new gods to us. This was our land and you were never welcome."

"But we have so much in common, you and I! Can't we come to some arrangement? I'll get straight to the point. You're right I didn't expect you to fight, in fact all I want is information. The directions to a place of importance: The Heart."

Coyote flinched and then he cackled "I can't tell you that!"

"As you said you've been here the longest, you must know it," Wednesday implored. 

"I know it, but I'm not telling you! After what you did up north? You must be mad, one-eye. Did you sacrifice your brain as well?" Coyote laughed, high pitched and rough. 

"I'm not going to do anything to it, merely visit. What could I _possibly_ do to it?" Wednesday asked reasonably. 

"I don't know and I don't want to find out," Coyote sang back. "Fuck off you old raven, you can't trick me." Then he raised his middle fingers, turned back into a coyote and ran away. 

Wednesday swore. 

"Little bastard! The nerve of some people," he turned and walked back the way they had come. 

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me what all that was about?" Shadow asked evenly.

"They wouldn't give us directions."

"I got that much. The heart; what is it and why do you want to go there?"

"I don't pay you to ask questions," Wednesday grumbled dismissively. Shadow kicked at a rock.

"You don't have to pay me for it, just answer some of my damn questions!" 

"You'll find out in time and until then it is better that you don't know." 

The rest of the day was filled with hostile silence on both sides. 

A bitter day led to a bitter night. In Shadow’s dream he stood in the bone orchard by a large tree hollow tree. He thought he could see flickers of the fire within through gaps between old bark. He peered closer, trying to see the core of the tree when a face pushed out of it with fiery eyes, its snout practically touching Shadow’s nose. He stumbled back and fell onto the skull littered floor. The buffalo snorted and shook as it emerged from the tree. 

“Believe.” The buffalo said. 

“What should I believe?” Shadow asked. 

“Everything.” The buffalo flickered and there in his place was a buffalo headed man. 

“You said that before. I can’t believe everything!” 

“It has been foretold,” The buffalo man said circling a fire. Now they were in a dark cave with red walls. Shadows flickered on them of dancing figures though there was no one to cast them. “A time of blood is coming. A time of faith.” 

A drop fell from the cave ceiling onto his forehead, then his hand. Shadow looked down and saw a bright red drop of blood. More fell until there was a torrent. It flooded the room and covered the fire but it kept burning, perhaps brighter than before. Shadow started to panic as the pool of blood reached his waist. The buffalo headed man stared at him impassively. 

“Help! What can I do?” Shadow shouted. The blood rose to his chest, his neck and then he was swimming in it, thick and viscous. 

“Believe.” The buffalo said as he too was covered by the rising red pool. Shadow pressed his mouth and nose to the roof of the cave, trying to suck in his last air as the space filled completely. He tried to believe, but he didn’t know what he believed. His lungs burned. His vision went black.

The blood hardened into thick rich soil, it pressed into his skin. He clawed through the dirt desperately and was amazed to see it part for him. He burst through the dirt into night air. He was in a graveyard. Beside him another hand thrust into the air followed by a head. It wasn’t Wednesday’s it was Laura’s. The gold coin glinted around her neck on a chain. 

“Nice gesture puppy, but I’m still dead.”

Shadow woke suddenly gasping for air. He flung the bedsheets off him, couldn’t stand the weight of the duvet pressing against his skin. He felt filthy and sticky, thankfully with sweat not blood. 

He threw himself into a shower. He’d hoped for heat but at this time of the night it remained depressingly cold. When he exited the bathroom it was to the sound of heavy banging on the door. Shadow shoved some jeans on and then opened it cautiously. Wednesday stood outside looking pissed off. 

“About time! The fuck have you been? Get dressed, we’re leaving.” 

“What? Why?”

“I’ve been warned that our stalker is a block away, sneaking up on us in the dark.” 

“Is she really that dangerous, I know she’s strong but-”

“It’s not her I’m worried about, it’s what’s following her.” 

“What’s following her? Is she in danger?!”

“She’s dead, I think she’s safe,” Wednesday said indifferently. He saw Shadow’s face and sighed. “It’s agents of the New Gods. They are definitely interested in us and not her so you don’t have to worry about your stiff sweetheart. In fact they probably don’t want her to notice them as she’s been such a good little tracking dog. Once we’re in the car we’ll be fine.” 

They both hurriedly grabbed their bags and got back in the car and continued driving. As soon as they were on their way Wednesday visibly relaxed and went from tense to merely grumpy. After an hour of driving Shadow relaxed too. 

He thought about destiny. 

Something big was coming. The gods could clearly feel it; the Buffalo man, Coyote, Mr Nancy, all of them. Since Zorya Vechernyaya’s death both sides had been in a very cold stalemate whilst they prepared but it was quickly getting violent again. He couldn't deny he was a part of it. He wasn’t just some random bystander who got swept up in this like Salim. He was the son of a god, he was having strange prophetic dreams, and somehow his actions had brought Laura back from the grave. He’d made it snow.

Was he- Shadow hesitated uncomfortably - was he some sort of chosen one? He felt silly and childish just for thinking it. It was incredibly self-centred to assume that he was somehow more important than anyone else. More important than gods. It was stupid, even if there was such a thing as a chosen one why would it be him? Hell maybe Laura was the chosen one. After all she’d come back from the dead and was on a quest to kill Wednesday who was about to start a terrible war. It sounded a lot more heroic than trailing around after Wednesday carrying his luggage. 

Later that morning they pulled up to Bedrock City, a Flintstones themed attraction. It had probably once been a fun little stop for families but it was now very dilapidated. At first Shadow wasn’t even sure it was open but Wednesday walked right through the gift shop without a care and Shadow was left to follow him. The place was deserted except for one disappointed looking family with two small children and a staff member trying to sell burgers. 

The park, if it could be called that, was dotted with concrete building shells in a caveman style. Most of them were completely gutted but a few still had eerie manikins and broken dioramas inside. They were apparently in the process of changing the park into some sort of bird of prey sanctuary and hawks occasionally called from their new enclosures. Huginn and Muninn came down to tease the larger birds from outside the cages, throwing sticks and cawing wickedly. 

Wednesday seemed to find the whole mess charming, though he was a little unsettled by the Flintstones characters. Shadow had to admit, once you got over some of the creepy fiberglass creatures and abandoned feel, it was rather peaceful. 

They stayed for an early lunch, which was a cheeseburger and a Slurpee each, and settled down on a picnic bench overlooking the brontosaurus slide. The table was covered with scratched graffiti, ‘Makayla and Tessa 2015’, ‘J.C. + D.V. + B.R ultimate road trip’, ‘Andy woz here’, ‘for a good time call Betty Rubble’. 

“Is this the place?” Shadow asked, conversationally. 

“What place would that be?” Wednesday asked, giving him a shrewd look. 

“The Heart?”

“Well now, not as dumb as you look,” Wednesday said with good humour. “Nah. I didn’t think it would be. Television characters,” Wednesday gestured around disdainfully. “There’s nothing sacred about the ground this was built on, it was just a cash grab.” 

“So why come here?”

“I could have been wrong, it’s been known to happen, and in America a cash grab is practically sacred by itself. Besides, we needed a break.” In the distance the family were desperately trying to pull their toddler out of a large concrete snake. Shadow figured he’d give it another go. 

“So what is the heart?”

“This again? I told you, you’re better off not knowing,” Wednesday grumbled. Then he bit into his greasy cheeseburger and his face immediately lit up in pleasure. 

"Then tell me something else? That stuff about destiny and the altar Coyote mentioned-"

"This isn't a negotiation," Wednesday interrupted, his gruffness slightly undermined by the ketchup round his mouth. 

"I'm not stupid Wednesday, that was the about the cave we were in, the sacrificial circle we destroyed to get out." 

Wednesday tipped his head slightly. 

"So… I mean, is that a problem, that we broke it?" Shadow asked awkwardly.

"What do you mean?" Wednesday looked genuinely confused. 

"Well you broke it to get me out. Otherwise you would have been able to go through the tunnel. Or not been there at all," Shadow replied. 

"Oh so you're feeling guilty!" Wednesday seemed amused. "Don't, there's more than a few sacrificial circles backstage, we can survive without one and it'll heal eventually."

"Why do gods need sacrificial circles? I mean backstage. I thought the idea was that mortals use the circles to give things to gods?" 

"Gods sometimes need to sacrifice too. It's how mana is made in actual fact. You sacrifice a little of your current power in order to store your belief for later or for trade. Belief in its natural form decays quickly.”

“I drank belief.” Shadow said flatly.

“Yes, which is why you threw it up. It’s not good for you. We just needed to keep you going for a little longer.” 

Shadow watched as the child was successfully removed from the snake and wiped down with wet tissues much to the child’s obvious disgust. As the parents were occupied the other child slipped into the snake. 

“If we’re being followed why don’t we ditch the car?” Shadow suggested.

“After all Betty has done for you?” Wednesday replied, scandalized. “You wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for her.”

“If by ‘all she’s done’ you mean provide motorized transport across the country and by ‘here’ you mean at a tacky tourist trap then I agree but I think you’ll find any other car would do the same,” Shadow scoffed. 

Wednesday waved him away frustratedly. “Betty Stays.”

Shadow watched as Wednesday scratched something into the table with a coin. “Runes?”

Wednesday grinned at him sheepishly. “Not quite, just a little memento.” He moved his hand aside to reveal ‘Wednesday and Shadow: Fighting for the Old Gods of America’. It was followed by a small obscure squiggle that looked a little like a child’s drawing of a house. “To help the right people find us,” he added, clearing his throat. “See you at the car in fifteen.” He strolled away towards the entrance. 

Shadow remained where he was and finished his burger. Why was it that every time he was ready to storm off and find his own answers, Wednesday did something unexpected? He kept giving him just enough answers to keep him around and yet Shadow was more confused than ever. 

From the moment they met, the other man had come across as deeply untrustworthy and unreliable. Sure he had a certain charm to him, Shadow couldn't deny that, but he was also presumptive, stubborn and secretive. He was a hard man to predict; sometimes icy cold and other times filled with a fiery passion that got even his enemies to listen and respect him. 

He didn’t understand Wednesday at all. But it didn’t really matter did it? He wasn't here for Wednesday. He felt an uncomfortable prickle at his own statement. It felt like a lie. 

It was ludicrous! Wednesday wasn’t his friend! He’d killed Laura, got him thrown in prison, and abandoned his mother. He’d tricked Shadow into some sort of vague employment and nearly gotten him killed. Wednesday was objectively a horrible manipulative person. Shadow should hate him. Did hate him. Of course he did. Just because someone shows occasional signs of humanity doesn’t mean they can be forgiven for murder! Shadow felt the reassuring certainty of anger returning. It was uplifting, to hate Wednesday again.

But he still didn’t know why he was here.

Three hours into their journey and the car was struggling with the heat and the dust. Wednesday directed them off into the desert on little used highways that practically disappeared in the wind. 

The air con had given up so the windows were rolled all the way down. Traveling at 60 it wasn’t so bad but when they had to slow down they baked. 

His brain baked the most. Thoughts swelled and fizzled and burnt in his mind. He couldn’t think. Everything was like a fuzzy radio station playing the same songs on repeat. He could hear Laura’s voice in his head. ‘Fuck! Why do you follow him?’ Her agitation became his own. ‘Just… for once Shadow, take hold of your life. Think about what you’re doing and why.’ And his mother’s voice ‘you’re meant for something special.’ But nothing made any sense. Laura was right, why was he here driving this lunatic across the country? The man who had lied to him! Who’d ruined his life!!

Shadow suddenly swerved and pulled over to the side of the road. 

Wednesday gripped the dashboard, slowly letting go after they came to a screeching halt. He stared at Shadow like he’d gone mad and then he blinked and seemed to recover. He took a deep breath and straightened his hat. 

“Something bothering you?” Wednesday asked evenly. 

“Why am I here?” Barked Shadow sharply. 

“Ah.” Wednesday looked both reassured and reluctant. Wednesday’s calmness spiked his frustration. 

“Fuck!” Shadow’s hands crashed down on the horn and the car blared out a long ugly honk that went on forever. It echoed off the barren landscape and Shadow imagined it could be heard for miles. If they weren’t in the middle of the desert someone might even have heard it. 

“You are the most aggravating person I know! You make no sense. I don’t understand what you do or why you do it. One second you’re leaving me for dead the next you’re saving my ass and now we’re back to square one? Me driving you around the ass end of- of”

“Arizona,” Wednesday supplied helpfully. 

“Fuck that! Why?! I don’t need the money. You’ve paid me enough that I can find my way until I get a job, ex con or not. I don’t like you, I don’t understand you, I sure as hell don’t trust you.”

“Have I pissed you off?” Wednesday asked. 

“Yes!” 

“Then as per our compact you are free to go.” Wednesday said waving at the empty desert. “Though I’d wait until the next town if I were you because I’m keeping the car.” Shadow sighed feeling drained. 

“It’s not our compact that’s keeping me here and you know it,” muttered Shadow. Wednesday acknowledged that with a nod. Shadow’s head fell back against the headrest releasing a cloud of dust into the warm air. 

“Why am I here?” Shadow repeated. 

“I said it would be best if you find out for yourself,” Wednesday chastised mildly. 

“I don’t care. Tell me anyway.” Wednesday held his hands up in surrender and then turned to him.

“Knowledge,” Wednesday said confidently. That was the last thing he’d been expecting. 

“Knowledge? You never tell me anything!” Shadow said incredulously. 

“I said that if I told you why you’re here you wouldn’t accept it,” Wednesday sighed. “You want answers? It’s not enough to merely tell someone something. Look at America, look at technology, a whole world of knowledge at your fingertips and still there are people who believe that vaccines are a hoax and that the president is a lizard.”

“There's even people that believe in gods."

"Very funny. But that's my point, we exist because they believe. They don't believe because we exist." Shadow took a moment to think about this.

"So... what? The president really is a lizard?"

"No, not quite. Belief works strangely on real things. It creates a sort of ethereal copy. An echo that reflects that belief. But it's less powerful. Take Jesus. At the heart of the myth there was in fact a real man. And that is why, despite being central to the largest religion in America, the Jesuses are weak. Most gods start as one being and then split as worshipers spread and disagree and form new ideas. Jesus started as many things and has only become more fragmented since. Something essential dies with the physical vessel. Totem gods never last long."

"He seems to have lasted ok"

"There's always an exception, clever clogs.” Wednesday fiddled with his collar for a moment as he thought. “Knowledge is different from belief, it’s opposite in many ways. Evidence strengthens knowledge but weakens belief.

“That’s bullshit” 

“It’s a simplification.” Wednesday shrugged airily. “A few miracles here and there will get you more belief all right but give out too many, make things too concrete and predictable and sooner or later you’re not a god anymore but a force of nature. They can map you with their satellites and predict you on their charts,” He waved out the window. “Nobody _believes_ in wind. You can’t believe in something right in front of you, then it’s just a fact. People have to invent a god to control the wind and _now_ they are on firmer metaphysical ground for belief to flourish.”

“I think you’ve just told me more about the nature of gods in the last two minutes than you have in all the time we’ve traveled.”

“And it’ll go in one ear and out the other you mark my words. Oh you’ve been _told_ many things but you don’t _know_ ,” He said emphatically. “To truly _know,_ to feel the knowledge in your bones…” He balled his hands into fists passionately. “Knowledge you fight for is always more powerful than knowledge handed to you. I had to sacrifice, fight and barter for mine, so should you for yours.” 

“I’m not looking for the secrets to the universe here.”

“Aren’t you?” Wednesday raised an eyebrow. 

“When all this started I just wanted to know who you were, why you hired me, and what this quest of yours is really about.” 

“Oh just small questions then,” he said sarcastically. 

“The point is, everything I’ve found out, I’ve found out without your help. Hell half the time with you working against me. I’m not following you around for knowledge.”

“Is that so? Do you think you would ever have found out about the world of gods if it wasn’t for me? The true nature of the world and the power of belief? Would you have gone backstage by yourself? I wonder if you would have made it snow?” He fixed Shadow with an unnerving stare. “If I hadn’t sought you out you wouldn’t know a tenth of what you know now. You’d never even have found out who your father was. That I guarantee.” “If I hadn’t have sought you out you’d be wandering home from prison to a dead wife and a pointless life. Hanging around her hometown for lack of anything better to do.”

“If you hadn’t sought me out I’d never even have gone to prison!” Shadow spat angrily. 

“There you go!” he said as though Shadow had proved his point. “But you wouldn’t be rich either. You would never have robbed the casino. Without my influence on your life, beyond the conception, you’d have settled down in a loveless marriage in a nowhere town and spent your life lifting boxes and throwing punches for men too weak to do it themselves. You’d have made nothing of your life. At least prison gave you focus, gave you time to think. It’s not my fault if you didn’t use it.”

“My marriage to Laura wasn’t loveless.”

“...A one sided love is perhaps even worse than no love at all,” Wednesday said eventually. He seemed about to say more but looked out the window instead. Shadow followed his gaze and saw nothing but empty road. 

“But knowledge? I mean, is that it?”

“‘ _Is that it_ ’?” Wednesday parroted. “Knowledge covers a lot of things you know. The answers you think you’re looking for may not be what is actually keeping you here.”

“But it’s not some-” Shadow gestured vaguely.

“Some destiny? Some higher power calling?” Wednesday mocked. Shadow grunted. He didn’t want to admit that he had been thinking along those lines. 

“Humans do things for human reasons. Because they want to or because they have to. To sate their hunger or their lust or to calm their fears. Destiny gets ascribed later,” 

“Then how do people tell the future? The Zorya sisters and all that?”

“Good knowledge of people. In their case, inhumanly good knowledge. But it all comes down to knowledge and wisdom in the end. The knowledge of the facts and the wisdom to apply them correctly. That’s all the power there is in the world.” 

“And everything else? The magic, the miracles?”

“Merely knowledge that not many people have,” Wednesday confirmed. 

“...making it snow?”

“Ah making it snow,” Wednesday smiled at him indulgently. “So you _do_ believe. I didn’t _tell_ you, you could make it snow. You’d have laughed at me. I showed you. If I hadn’t shown you how, you wouldn’t have known you could. And now you know.” 

Shadow though about this. Frustratingly Wednesday was right. He’d never have made it snow if he’d been told he could control the weather. But now...

“I still kind of feel like I would prefer the simple answers,” Shadow muttered. 

“Simple answers for simple men, and you my boy are not a simple man. Find out what you want, and chase it down, no use sitting there waiting for it.” Wednesday replied. “Speaking of which, we should be chasing down a little town to the East of here where we will find succor and sustenance.”

Shadow sighed and started the engine.


End file.
